


Devotion

by AnnaTheHank



Series: Devotions [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Angst, Aziraphale and Gabriel are married, Cheating, Comedy, Crowley is a known homewrecker, F/F, Fluff, M/M, Marriage, Multi, Slow Burn, angels are good for once, historically accurate use of drugs as medicine, homophobia in my historical au? I THINK NOT, spoiler alert it all turns out okay in the end, that's right we got it all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2020-11-15 10:29:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 79,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20864726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaTheHank/pseuds/AnnaTheHank
Summary: Gabriel married Aziraphale, not that anyone in their circle was excited about it. They moved away to a new town to escape the 'shame', yet the rumors of their sorted past followed them. Things get interesting when painter Crowley comes into the scene, eager to steal Aziraphale away. But Aziraphale's strong devotion to Gabriel is a problem, one that Crowley can't seem to overcome as the truth of Aziraphale's past starts to reveal itself.





	1. Enter Crowley (stage left)

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe I have so many wips and still start a new one. I'm so sorry. But I knew I wouldn't be able to work on anything else until I got this one out, at least the first chapter.  
Thank you to everyone who is stopping by to read, especially those of you who may be patiently waiting for updates on other works, you guys are the real MVP's!
> 
> Also, y'all know me. This is soft A/G and will have a happy ending for everyone involved.

Crowley had heard the rumors. The story differed depending on who you talked to, exactly, but Crowley’s favorite variation was that Gabriel had married a prostitute. He was fairly certain that one wasn’t true, even if it was the most fun. The kid he had remembered meeting all those years ago certainly didn’t seem the wild and crazy type. He figured, hey, people could change. So when he received yet another invitation to one of Michael’s parties, he agreed. Usually the kinds of parties Michael and Uriel threw were boring, but they lived in the same town as Gabriel and his hussie, so Crowley was more than eager to go and see what he could see.

The town was just a short train ride away, after all. Gabriel and his boy-toy moving in had been the biggest news in not just that town, but all the ones near it. There were a few different reasons they had moved there, too, also depending on who you talk to. Everyone agreed that there had been a fight between Gabriel and his family. Apparently this made it difficult for the two of them to remain in Gabriel’s home town, so they moved here. One particularly wild story told to Crowley by a drunk stumbling home featured Gabriel murdering his brother in a fit of rage and the two of them having to move away to escape the police. That made absolutely no sense, but Crowley was more inclined to believe it because he liked the bit about the murder. 

Uriel met him at the train station.

“Well, well,” she said, arms crossed and smirking. “If it isn’t Anthony J. Crowley, darkening our little town once more.”

Crowley returned her smirk and hugged her. “Well, you know me, can’t stay away from the gossip.” He winked at her.

Uriel rolled her eyes and led him to the carriage waiting to take them up to her and Michael's house. “I knew it. I told Michael you were only coming to see Gabriel and Aziraphale.”

“Aziraphale, huh?” Crowley climbed in and stretched a bit. “Not a bad name for a whore.”

Uriel climbed in opposite of him and kicked his leg. “Aziraphale is not a whore,” she hissed at him. The carriage jolted and started to move away. 

Crowley grinned and shrugged. “That’s not what I heard.”

“Well then you heard wrong.”

Crowley shifted forward, elbows resting on his knees. “So. Tell me all about it.”

Uriel shook her head. “I don’t know much. They aren’t inclined to talk about their past.”

“So maybe he did murder his brother.”

Uriel gave him a look. “You really musn’t believe everything you hear in the street.”

“So what do you know?”

Uriel sat back, her spine straight. “Well, Gabriel is quite protective of him, that’s for sure. There’s not much he can do when people just ignore him, but if anyone ever dares to insult him or anything...well, let me just warn you now. Don’t insult him.”

Crowley smirked and leaned back, crossing his legs. “Murder is sounding more and more possibly by the minute.”

“Personally I don’t understand what everyone’s problem is,” Uriel said. “I think Aziraphale is a darling.”

“Well, he’s probably used to being charming. Have to be in the escort business.”

Uriel kicked him again, quite hard. Crowley yelped and grabbed his shin, scowling at her. 

“I’m serious Crowley! Do not treat him badly. And do not say things like that to anyone. The poor thing is having enough trouble adjusting as it is and I won’t have you making it worse for him.”

“Ow, okay, okay.” Crowley rubbed his leg until it stopped hurting and then sighed. “Why do you always have to kick?”

Uriel smiled at him. “It’s what you respond to.”

Crowley scoffed and smiled back. 

-

There were two types of rich people and you could tell them apart by the kinds of parties they threw. New money rich people threw great parties. Wild hooplas that went long into the night and had all kinds of fun dancing and great food. Old money people threw boring parties. A lot like this one. Out in the garden, dull or pastel decorations, tea served at every table and little sandwiches being carried around on platters. 

Crowley faked his way through conversations with the rich and fabulous that were attending the party. He much prefer the company of the status-less, but every time he caught the eye of someone he’d like to talk to he got dragged over by some lord this or lady that and forced into another dreary conversation about his work. (It wasn’t a total waste, as he did make a few commissions off of it. Seems he was going to be spending a lot more time in this little town doing work in the future).

Crowley sighed and pulled himself away from another conversation, grabbing Uriel’s arm as she passed. “They are coming, aren’t they?”

Uriel smiled at him, leading him over to where Michael was chatting with some old couple that Crowley knew he knew but couldn’t place the name of. “They’re usually late.”

“Fashionably late, huh?” Crowley smirked. “Ain’t that just like a-” Uriel’s heel made sharp contact with his foot “-Ouch! A fine upstanding citizen!”

Uriel shook her head and Crowley let her drag him over to the old couple. He smiled and acted polite as was necessary until they left. Uriel placed a kiss to Michael's cheek, rubbing her back a bit.

“Oh, don’t look so upset,” Michael said, catching Crowley’s glare. “People might think you didn’t come to this party to be with your friends.”

“I didn’t,” Crowley told her. “I came here to get a look at…” 

Crowley’s voice trailed off as he looked about. Two men were being led into the garden. One he recognized as Gabriel. The guy may have aged roughly twenty years or so, but he looked exactly the same: suite and tie expertly tailored with slicked down hair completely in its place. The man on his arm was another story completely, practically in stark contrast. 

Aziraphale was a bit shorter, his head resting at Gabriel’s shoulder. His hair was a beautiful white-blond, gently curled about on his head. He had bright blue eyes, that twitched about as he looked around the garden, his lips a quivering frown. His clothes were a lot less uppity than Gabriel’s, too. His trousers had creases in them and his coat was much too long for him. And he was awfully fidgety, his fingers picking at Gabriel’s sleeve as they entered. 

“Ah, here they are now,” Michael said, heading towards them.

“Come on,” Uriel said, dragging Crowley and his open jaw after her. “I’ll introduce you. And be nice!”

Crowley couldn't’ think of being anything but to the man that he was being lead to. 

“Gabriel, Aziraphale, so glad you could make it,” Michael said. The four exchanged greetings, little kisses on cheeks and small hugs. Crowley noted how once Aziraphale was no longer wrapped around Gabriel’s arm, Gabriel’s hand was on the small of his back. 

“Gabriel, Aziraphale, this is Anthony Crowley,” Uriel said, holding her hand out to him. “He’s a portraitist, has done a lot of amazing work.”

Gabriel shook his hand and Aziraphale fidgeted, seemingly surprised when Crowley held his hand out to him. Aziraphale gulped and shook his hand, a twitch of a smile on his lips. 

“You know that portrait of ours over the fireplace?” Michael said. She smiled proudly over at Crowley. “All him.”

Gabriel’s eyebrows rose. “Excellent work,” he said. 

“Thanks,” Crowley said, not wanting to drag his eyes away from Aziraphale but finding he had to. 

He opened his mouth to say something else but someone else came up, eager to drag Gabriel away. Crowley was perfectly fine with this as that meant he would get to talk to Aziraphale a bit more. But the hand on Aziraphale’s back pulled him away with Gabriel, the two of them moving out of view. Crowley scowled.

“You stop that thought right now,” Uriel told him, smacking him lightly on the head. 

“Ow.” Crowley rubbed the point of impact. “What was that for?”

“He is married, Crowley,” Uriel hissed. She pointed a finger at him. “Leave him alone.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m a saint.”

“Oh, please,” Michael said, rolling her eyes. “We know you, Crowley. But I’m telling you, this isn’t some bored house spouse you can just get off with, okay? Gabriel will kill you if you even think about touching Aziraphale.”

“So, not above murder, eh?” Crowley smirked.

Uriel rolled her eyes. “Honestly. Why do we ever invite him to anything?”

-

Crowley spent the rest of the party practically stalking Gabriel and Aziraphale. Gabriel never seemed to stop touching Aziraphale in one way or the other, Aziraphale either draped about his arm or Gabriel’s hand somewhere on Aziraphale’s back. Possessive little fuck, Crowley thought, growling as he watched them. The worst part was how miserable Aziraphale looked. No one spoke to him. No one. He stood there next to Gabriel and fidgeted as he listened to the conversations happening around him. 

Crowley simply couldn’t stand it. He strode over as Gabriel spoke with that one older couple. 

“Hey, Aziraphale,” he said. 

Aziraphale startled, blinking wildly as he looked at Crowley. “Oh. A-Anthony, was it?”

“I go by Crowley, actually,” he said, smiling to try and ease the other man’s anxieties. 

Gabriel glanced over at him, eyes squinted and face stoic. Crowley felt a pang of fear shiver down his spine but he ignored it. 

“Oh. Crowley. Hello.” Aziraphale’s face did that little twitch smile again. “Uh,” he looked up at Gabriel, who had turned his attention back to the old couple but whose hand had moved lower, more possessive. “You’re an artist, were you?”

Crowley nodded and leaned himself against the nearest table. Not very proper of him, but who cares? He wasn’t rich, he didn’t need to try. “Yep! Lot of rich people portraits, you know.”

Aziraphale nodded. “Do you enjoy it? What you do?”

“Well, it’s money,” Crowley said, shrugging. 

“Oh?” Aziraphale turned to face him. Gabriel gave him a look that Aziraphale didn’t catch, but Crowley did. Gabriel’s hand fell away from Aziraphale and Crowley could see his teeth clench tight as he listened to the old couple. “What would you rather be doing? I mean, if money wasn’t an issue.”

“Money will always be an issue,” Crowley said, chuckling. “I do like painting though. I just prefer animals and plants to humans.”

“Oh! Oh I just love paintings of plants!” Aziraphale’s face brightened up and he jumped a bit. 

Crowley couldn’t help but smile, a little surprised at his outburst. “Is that so?”

Aziraphale nodded. “Oh yes. They’re simply wonderful! Oh! Oh, could I see them? Your other paintings? Would that be alright?”

Crowley chuckled a little, despite himself. “Yeah, of course. I’d love to. I could bring them by.”

“Tomorrow?” Aziraphale had his hands folded together and was biting his lip ever so slightly. 

“Uh, yeah, sure. Tomorrow.”

“Excellent! I-”

“Aziraphale.” Gabriel was holding his arm out and Crowley noted how the old couple had moved away. 

“O-oh! Sorry!” Aziraphale smiled at Crowley. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Then he grabbed Gabriel’s arm and let himself be led away.

Gabriel shot Crowley a warning glance over his shoulder and Crowley felt that shiver of fear run down his spine again. Oh well, he figured. Gabriel could give him all the threatening glares he wanted. Crowley was going to see Aziraphale again tomorrow, away from the party and his ‘husband’. It was going to be great.

-

Aziraphale could feel Gabriel’s gaze on him as he undressed, carefully undoing the buttons on his shirt. He bit his lip, waiting for whatever he was going to say.

“You know,” Gabriel finally spoke, breaking the tension in the room. “You don’t have to go to these things.”

“It would be rude to turn down an invitation,” Aziraphale said, slipping his shirt off and untucking his undershirt. 

Gabriel sighed. “You know the invitations are only for me,” he said. Aziraphale looked up, watching Gabriel on the other side of the room through the mirror. His back muscles were tight. 

“Yes, dear, but I am your husband. What would it look like if I didn’t go?”

Gabriel turned around and Aziraphale looked down, avoiding his face. “It would look like they’re all a bunch of stuck up pricks who aren’t worthy of your time.”

Aziraphale smiled, closing his eyes softly. “Well, think of what they would say.”

“Who cares,” Gabriel said. “They say things anyway. This way you don’t have to go through hours of boredom.”

“Yes, but the things they say now are about me. If I was to stop going places with you, well, they might start saying things about you, too.”

“Good,” Gabriel said. “Let them.”

“No!” Aziraphale spun around, grabbing the vanity to steady himself. “Gabriel, don’t say such things!”

Gabriel frowned. “It’s better they talk about me than you.”

“No!” Aziraphale stormed over, his face growing hot, tears stinging at his eyes. “You have been so good to me, Gabriel and I simply won’t have anyone saying anything about you!” Gabriel opened his mouth to speak but Aziraphale placed a finger to his lips. “You already had to leave your family and home because of me and I will not stand for it happening again. I’m fine. I can handle this life. I choose it. But I will not let you live miserably for me!”

Aziraphale kept his finger on Gabriel’s lips, mainly because he was afraid of his response. Eventually Gabriel reached up, gentle fingers wrapping around Aziraphale’s wrist and pulling his hand away. 

“Aziraphale,” Gabriel whispered. He sighed and looked away. “Very well.”

“Good.” Aziraphale placed his hands on Gabriel’s chest. “Besides, today wasn’t all that bad. I did get to talk to that Crowley fellow. He was quite nice.”

“Oh yes,” Gabriel said, looking down. “Him.”

“I don’t know if you heard any of what we were talking about-”

“I heard every word.”

“Oh, good. So you don’t mind if I put some of his paintings up. Our walls here are terribly bare.”

Gabriel placed his hands on Aziraphale’s waist. “You know I don’t care what you do with this place.”

“I really wish you’d care a little, dear. It is your house after all.”

Gabriel growled. “It’s our house.”

“Yes, and that makes it part yours and you should have things you like in it.”

Gabriel leaned his head down, pressing their foreheads together. “What I like is already here.”

Aziraphale huffed out a chuckle. “You sweet talker, you.” He tilted their heads back and kissed him. 

“Just...be careful with him, okay?” Gabriel said, nuzzling his nose against Aziraphale’s cheek.

“Hm?”

“That Crowley. I asked about him. He has a bit of a reputation.”

Aziraphale kissed his cheek and then pulled away, wandering back over to his vanity to finish getting ready for bed. “A reputation for being a good painter?”

“For being a homewrecker.”

Aziraphale’s body froze. He swallowed hard, tears stinging his eyes. A few escaped. He turned around slowly. Gabriel was standing exactly where he had left him, frowning deeply and looking away. 

“Gabriel,” Aziraphale croaked, hating the way his own voice sounded. “Y-you know I...I wouldn’t.” He bit his lip but more tears fell anyway. He could feel snot forming in his nose and he sniffed it away, trying not to go into full teary hysterics. Gabriel still hadn’t moved so he crossed the room, grabbing his hand tight. “Please, you must believe me. I wouldn’t dream!”

Gabriel looked at him, all that hurt and pain from the past clear on his face. Aziraphale’s jaw started to quiver. He pressed forward, wrapping his arms around Gabriel, his face pressed tight to his chest, tears wetting his skin. 

“Please, Gabriel. Please you have to know! Never! I would never!”

Gabriel’s arms wrapped around him and Aziraphale found he could breathe easier. “Of course, I know,” Gabriel whispered. Aziraphale felt his whole body relax. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m sorry.”

Aziraphale sniffed away the last of his tears, sinking into Gabriel’s embrace, suddenly quite tired. “I’ll tell him not to come,” he said.

“No,” Gabriel said, smoothing down Aziraphale’s hair. “It’s alright. Just...keep an eye on him. I don’t want him to hurt you. And...just, tell me if he tries anything.”

“Of course.” Aziraphale nodded against Gabriel’s chest. “But you’ll probably be able to tell by him walking away with a painting broken over his head if he does.”

Gabriel pressed a kiss to the top of Aziraphale’s head. “I love you, Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale smiled softly. “I love being with you.” It wasn’t want Gabriel wanted to hear, what he deserved to hear. But they both knew that if Aziraphale had returned the sentiment it would be a lie. And they had agreed a long time ago that lies didn’t belong in their relationship.


	2. Two slaps for the price of one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to my girl Astrolothesisa for giving me the idea to name the butler Bentley <3

Gabriel was already half-way through his breakfast when Aziraphale joined him. Their butler rushed out of the room to go grab Aziraphale his food but Gabriel didn’t seem to notice. He was reading something out of a file, which was odd, because of the few times Aziraphale managed to get up early enough to see him off he was usually reading the newspaper. 

Aziraphale pulled out the chair next to him, feet dragging against the ground, and Gabriel glanced up. His eyebrows rose in surprise and he closed the file, sitting up properly as Aziraphale took his seat.

“Aziraphale,” Gabriel greeted. “You’re up early.”

Aziraphale gave him a smile, face lighting up as his breakfast was placed before him. “I figured I’d try and get some writing done this morning. I’m not sure how long the visit with Crowley is going to be after all.”

Gabriel nodded. “That seems like a wise choice. I’m sure he won’t take up too much of your time, however.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. He seems like a sociable fellow. I thought he might stick around to chat.”

Gabriel’s face twitched a bit but he didn’t say anything. The conversation from last night was still fresh in both their minds, and as much as Gabriel was still deeply worried about Crowley and his reputation, he also knew that Aziraphale didn’t have anyone to talk to. He had no friends. And if there was someone around that wasn’t going to snub him, Gabriel couldn’t in good conscious stand in the way of that. 

“Well, as long as he isn’t too sociable,” he said.

“Of course.”

Gabriel’s eyes glanced to the clock in the corner of the room and he sighed. “I should get going.”

Aziraphale eyed his plate up. “You’ve hardly touched your breakfast.”

“I’m not that hungry,” Gabriel said, standing up and fixing his jacket.

“But dinner’s so far away,” Aziraphale said, glancing at him with worried eyes. “That’s hardly enough to get you through the day and don’t tell me you’ll be fine because I know you don’t eat lunch!”

Gabriel smiled and crossed over to him. He cupped the side of Aziraphale’s face with one hand and leaned down, placing a soft kiss to his forehead. “Have a good day,” he said, thumb rubbing over cheek before pulling away.

Aziraphale pouted. “You, too,” he said.

Gabriel left and their butler came over to clean up his plate.

“What are we going to do with him, Bentley?” Aziraphale asked, sighing heavily.

“Well, I could always tie him to his chair and force the food down his throat.”

Aziraphale chuckled softly. “I don’t think that would work. No, just, please make sure that dinner is something hearty. Maybe a stew? He likes stew.”

Bentley nodded. “Of course, sir.” He picked up the plate and carried it away.

“Thank you!”

-

Crowley had an extra pep in his step as he bounded up the street to Aziraphale’s house. They lived not too far from Michael and Uriel, and he had been able to hitch a ride with Uriel’s chef, returning from a much needed vacation. 

“Don’t even think about trying anything,” Uriel had said, spotting his goofy smile as he headed off.

Crowley grinned, adjusting the paintings under his arm. He was going to try so many things. He rang the doorbell and bounced on his heels, waiting. The door swung open, revealing the butler, and a wafting scent of vanilla.

“Uh, hi!” Crowley said, one of the paintings almost falling out of his grasp. “Anthony J. Crowley, here to see Aziraphale.”

The butler stepped to the side, holding the door open for him. “Please come in, he has been waiting for you.”

Crowley walked into the warmth of the house a bit nervous. Was he late? They hadn’t exactly agreed on a time. It was late morning, maybe he should have come earlier. But that would have been a little hard considering he slept in so late. (Not his fault, thinking about spending the day with Aziraphale had made him really excited and anxious, and falling asleep hadn’t exactly been easy).

The butler led him into the drawing room. It was light and airy, the windows open, a gentle breeze blowing past silk coverings. It was well decorated too, a fancy rug beneath two plump couches and a wall of full bookshelves in the back. Aziraphale was sitting at a desk in the corner, writing in a journal.

Crowley smiled inwardly as the butler announced him and then shut the doors to the room, closing the two of them off from the rest of the house.

“Crowley, I’m so glad you could make it.” Aziraphale got up, closing the journal and slipping it in a drawer before walking up to him.

“Wouldn’t miss this for anything,” Crowley said. “Sorry if I’m late.”

“Oh! Not at all! We hadn’t agreed on a time anyway.” He chuckled softly and then his eyes landed on the bundles under Crowley’s arms. “Are these them?”

“Yeah.”

“May I?”

“Sure, sure, just be careful.”

“Of course.”

Crowley placed the bundles down on the table and Aziraphale sat down, pulling one open. He gasped. “Oh they’re simply beautiful.”

Crowley stalked around to the side, leaning in to see which one he had picked up. It was the scattering of roses on a dark cloth. Perhaps a bed, if one wanted it to be. Crowley licked his lips and looked at Aziraphale, wondering what he saw in the image. 

Aziraphale looked through the rest of the pictures, murmuring praises at each one, as Crowley circled around the room, hands behind his back, taking in the sights of both decor and man. Aziraphale’s face looked so pure and adorable as he studied the paintings. And every word of praise sounded like a heavenly song. Crowley had no idea how anyone could think anything other than the world of him.

Aziraphale sighed, content, leaning back against the couch as he put the last painting away. “You are incredibly talented,” he said.

Crowley smirked. “Talent's only half of it.”

“Oh of course! I’m sure you’ve worked very hard to get this far. And I am very much interested in hiring you to paint such lovely things for me.”

Crowley smiled. His first, immediate response was ‘you’re a lovely thing how about I paint you’ but he wasn’t entirely confident in the vibes of the room so he just said, “I would be more than happy to be under your employment.”

Aziraphale’s eyes lit up as he smiled. He looked so different from the fidgety, shy mess he had been at the party. Crowley wondered why Aziraphale didn’t just walk away from it all, and the husband who dragged him around to everything. 

“There’s this garden,” Aziraphale said, “over by Bell Street?”

Crowley nodded. “I know the one.”

“Well, I’ve always thought it was the most beautiful place every and I would be absolutely tickled if I could have some paintings of it in my house.”

Tickled...Crowley’s eyes wandered over Aziraphale’s body, wondering would it would like to run his fingers over it, making Aziraphale laugh, making him smile that bright smile of his. “Well, then, allow me to tickle your fancy.”

Aziraphale giggled and the way he looked up at Crowley, through his eyelashes, hint of a blush on his cheek...Oh yeah. Next time Crowley would turn the flirt on.

“You got a lot of books,” he said, steering the conversation away from business. 

Aziraphale wiggled in his seat, hands in his lap, looking positively pleased. “I love books. I spend so much of my time reading. Do you read?”

“Eh, not much.” Crowley shook his head, eyes scanning over the titles of the books.

“No? Nothing?”

“Well,” Crowley shrugged, slipping his hands into his pockets. Not very posh of him but he had a feeling that Aziraphale wouldn’t mind. “I do like those Dangerous Dan books. You heard of them? A. Z. something or another?”

Aziraphale’s eyes grew wide and he gulped. “A. Z. Fell,” he whispered.

“Yeah! That’s the one. Great books. Lots of fun.” Crowley caught the paled expression on Aziraphale’s face. “You alright?”

“Oh, yes, I’m fine. I just uh…”

Crowley chuckled. “Hey, it’s alright. You can admit to me you like them.”

“What?”

“I know they’re not exactly high-brow, but I won’t tell anyone.” He wandered back over the couch, leaning over the back. “Everyone needs a little adventure in their lives.”

Aziraphale’s blush deepened and he scooted away a bit. Adorable.

“Well, what’s your favorite?” Aziraphale asked. He picked up a cup of tea from the coffee table that Crowley hadn’t realized was there. He put the cup to his lips, soft and round, and took a tentative sip. Crowley couldn’t draw his gaze away from the motion.

“I like the one with the camel,” he said.

“Oh? That’s odd.”

Crowley furrowed his eyebrows, finally looking back into Aziraphale’s bright blue eyes as he put the cup down. “Why is that odd?”

“It’s just that most people prefer the one with the spyglass. Or the propeller. That’s a popular one. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who’s favorite was the camel.”

Crowley resisted the urge to hop over the back of the couch, knowing that he had to have at least a bit of decency in such a house. He walked around and sat next to Aziraphale, one leg curled up under him so he could face him better. “Talk to many people about these books?”

“Oh. Oh no. I just hear things is all.” Aziraphale looked away, biting his bottom lip a bit. He glanced at Crowley, seemed a bit uncomfortable in his seat, but didn’t move. 

“Well, come on then.” Crowley scooted closer. “What’s your favorite?”

Aziraphale’s hands started to fidget, picking at his fingernails. “I suppose the first one will always have a special place in my heart. See I...read it when...well during a very bad time in my life. It was quite helpful.”

Crowley smiled, forgetting his advances for a moment, watching every gesture of Aziraphale’s face as he seemed to think back on the past. Well, Crowley’s past wasn’t exactly covered in roses either. 

“Yeah,” he said, scooting up another inch. Their legs almost touched. “I remember when I first read it. It was so different than anything else you could get, you know. So cool and unique. And I just love the mystery surrounding the author, you know.”

Aziraphale smiled a bit, body calming briefly. “Yes, I know.” He looked a little bit mischievous. “It’s awfully exciting thinking about it.”

One more inch. Touching now. Arm draped over the back of the sofa, hand a hair’s breadth away from neck.

“I think he’s some kind of like, eccentric old guy. The kind that’s got a fuck ton of money and no fucks to give.”

Aziraphale looked up, lost in a bit of a daydream. “I like to think he really is Dangerous Dan. He leads this wildly extraordinary life, full of adventure, and exotic food and locations. It’s partially biographical. And it doesn’t matter what anyone thinks of him, because he’s got so much confidence.”

“And the love of that one king’s son certainly doesn't hurt.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “You’re absolutely,” he turned his head, face sobering a bit, “right.” 

He looked at Crowley surprised, as if he hadn’t noticed how close he had gotten. Crowley could see his heart beating hard, pumping out gently against his neck. And his pupils were certainly very dilated, and they kept glancing down at Crowley’s lips. Aziraphale didn’t move when Crowley’s fingers brushed against his skin, a slight shiver if anything. That was all Crowley needed. He leaned in, his own heart mirroring Aziraphale’s speed as the delicious lips crept closer by the second. Oh yeah, he thought, this was going to be great.

SMACK.

Crowley shook his head, pulling back as Aziraphale jumped off the couch, leaving a white hand-print across Crowley’s cheek.

“How dare you!” Aziraphale said, hand clenched to his chest as he walked a good distance away from Crowley. Crowley sat back, still trying to wrap his head around what exactly just happened. “I am married.”

Crowley scoffed, rubbing at the slap mark with more of a hurt ego than a hurt face. “Yeah. I’m sure that stiff bastard is totally worth it.”

Aziraphale was back by the couch in an instant, slapping Crowley again, hard across the other cheek. “Don’t you dare speak about him like that!”

“Wow, okay, sorry!” Crowley rubbed at his other cheek. That one stung a little bit. He was actually missing Uriel’s attacks. 

Aziraphale backed away again. He pointed to the door. His eyes were wet, but held a great fury behind them. “Get out.”

Crowley scrambled off of the couch. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait! Okay, I’m sorry.”

“Take your paintings and get out of my house!”

“Look, I’m sorry, okay! I thought you were, ya know.” He gestured to the couch. “I just misread the signals is all.”

“You sure as hell did!”

“And I’m sorry for that.” Crowley held his hands out, licking his lips. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Is that why you came over?” Aziraphale sounded hurt, the sound reverberating off Crowley’s spine like prickly pines. “You just wanted to...to…” He wrapped his arms around his stomach, and the look he gave Crowley made him absolutely sick.

“No! Of course not!”

“Then why?”

“Well, because, you invited me. And I thought you were really interesting and I wanted to get to know you.”

Aziraphale’s arms moved to cross over his chest, glaring at Crowley.

“Not like that!”

Aziraphale shook his head. “I know about you, you know. And you reputation.”

Crowley rolled his eyes and put his hands on his hips. “My reputation, huh?”

“This is what you do. You pray on weak house spouses and use their loneliness to try and...and violate them!”

Crowley cocked his head. “So you admit you’re lonely?” 

Aziraphale frowned, then huffed. “To think I thought this would be any different.”

Crowley shrugged. Aziraphale already had his opinions about him, nothing he said was going to change that. “If you knew all this about me then why invite me over?”

“I didn’t know when I invited you,” Aziraphale said. His jaw quivered and Crowley’s face softened. “I thought...I just thought you wanted to be my friend.”

Crowley felt something weird in his chest. Like a string being pulled tight and released, vibrating throughout his body. A tear slipped down Aziraphale’s cheek and the string broke.

“Clearly I was wrong. Please just go.”

Crowley didn’t move. “I did want to be your friend. I do! Look, I’m really sorry. I completely misread the situation and it’s not going to happen again. Okay? Just, here.” Crowley picked up his notebook and sat down, opening it up to a blank page. “The garden on Bell right? What do you want?”

Aziraphale kept his arms crossed and stared at him. Crowley gulped. If Aziraphale didn’t accept his apology he would have to leave. But the prospect of that made him sick. He really did find Aziraphale interesting, and he did want to be friends. Having to leave? Having to never see him again? Crowley couldn't stand for it.

Aziraphale nodded slightly and sat on the couch opposite of Crowley. “Why do you think I’m interesting?”

Crowley blinked, pencil primed on the page, waiting. “Uh, well.” He shrugged. “Nothing I heard about you seemed to match with what you looked like.”

Aziraphale uncrossed his arms, scowl lessening. “What did you hear?”

“Huh?”

“The things people told you about me. What were they?”

“Oh.” Crowley leaned back a bit. “There’s a lot of different stories. Mostly that you’re a prostitute. Or were one anyway.”

Aziraphale’s face looked disgusted and offended. “They say I’m a prostitute?”

“Yeah. Or escort, whore, what have you.”

Aziraphale huffed, his face warping into something determined but sad. “What else have you heard?”

“Uh...there was a really great story about how your husband murdered his brother.”

Aziraphale looked horrified. “But that’s simply not true.”

Crowley shrugged. “I didn’t say I believed it, just that I heard it.”

Aziraphale looked like he was going to cry again and he swallowed hard. “What else?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“I need to know.” Aziraphale leaned forward, eyes pleading with him. “Please tell me everything.”

“That’s really all I know,” Crowley said. He had to look away from Aziraphale’s expression before he started crying. “Michael and Uriel probably know more. Just ask them.”

Aziraphale leaned back, shaking his head. “No. No they won’t tell me anything.”

Probably because you look like a damn wounded animal, Crowley thought. “So, uh, I mean, what-what did happen?”

Aziraphale looked away. He licked his lips and his face became stoic. Not happy, but at least not on the verge of crying. It was marginally better.

“So,” Aziraphale said with a little sigh. “I was thinking a large painting, of the whole garden, to hang in the hallway? A landscape, you know?”

Crowley nodded. He knew. But boy, did he ever want to know more.


	3. Blue Flower in the Evening

Aziraphale was waiting for Gabriel to fall asleep. His eyes were closed but his body was too tense, and his breath wasn’t quite soft enough. It had been nearly an hour since they went to bed. Aziraphale turned on his side, resting his head against his hand, propped up on his elbow. He reached over, gently running a hand through Gabriel’s hair. Gabriel’s eyes slowly opened. 

“What’s on your mind?” Aziraphale asked. 

Gabriel shook his head. “Nothing.”

Aziraphale frowned. He shuffled forward, snuggling up to Gabriel’s side.

“You don’t have to do that,” Gabriel said.

“It helps you sleep,” Aziraphale stated, matter-of-factly. He placed one arm on Gabriel’s stomach and rested his head on his chest, just over his heart. 

Gabriel sighed, adjusting slightly, and brought one arm up to rest over Aziraphale’s. 

“You’re sleeping in tomorrow,” Aziraphale announced.

“I have work,” Gabriel mumbled. 

“You need your rest,” Aziraphale argued. He snuggled up closer. 

He waited. A few minutes later Gabriel’s heart beat had slowed to an appropriate pace, his muscles relaxing under Aziraphale’s touch, his breath slow and steady. Aziraphale waited a few minutes after, to make sure he was really asleep, before he slipped out of bed, tip-toeing across the room. 

He winced as the door creaked behind him, but Gabriel didn’t seem to move. With a sigh of relief Aziraphale left the door open and crept his way downstairs. It was a lovely night, so he stepped out to their little garden in the back. It wasn’t anywhere as large or lovely as Michael and Uriel’s, but he loved it very much.

The moon was high in the sky and Aziraphale sat down on his favorite bench. He took a deep breath in, the spring air light and cool, the smell of flowers abound. And then he sniffed, which could be confused as allergies, until the tears started to fall down his face. 

Aziraphale pulled his feet up, drawing his knees to his chest and hugging them close. He buried his face in his legs and cried. A prostitute. That’s all that remained of his life now. His parents had really done a hell of a job erasing him if that was so easily believable. He shuddered. That wasn’t the worst of it. He could handle that. He had brought that on himself. 

But now there were rumors about Gabriel? People were out there saying he murdered someone? His own brother no less? Aziraphale shook his head. He hated himself. He wished he could go back in time and stop himself from accepting Gabriel’s proposal. Gabriel had been so nice and good to him and look where it got him? A suspected murderer married to a prostitute.

Aziraphale was finding it hard to catch his breath. He knew he needed to stop but he couldn’t. It had been a while since he cried like this and so it was a bit overwhelming. Back when they had first gotten married, back when they had that little place in their hometown? Aziraphale had cried practically every night. That was when he had started writing, something to do to help distract him.

That was why they moved. Gabriel had caught him up in the middle of the night sobbing in bed, or spending his lunch tearful at the desk as he wrote. The insults there had been personal. And they hadn’t been hushed away and said behind his back. They had been shouted at his face. So they were a lot harder to ignore. And Gabriel had gotten so upset that he moved them away. He left his home and his family (that still talked to him) to get Aziraphale away from all of that. 

And that was why Aziraphale was determined to never let Gabriel see him cry again. He wouldn’t have Gabriel uprooting his life anymore. Not for him.

“Aziraphale?”

Aziraphale's head popped up, wet and scared. But it wasn’t Gabriel who had spoken, it was Crowley. Crowley, whose head was peeking at him over the fence. 

“Are you crying?”

Aziraphale put his feet down, wiping his face off and hoping the light of the moon was dim enough to hide it. “No,” he said, unable to keep the waver from his voice. “Just feeling a little under the weather is all.”

Crowley grunted and the fence started to shake as he climbed it. He swung a leg over the top and then proceeded to catch his foot on the other side, falling to the floor with a thud. The case of papers he had been carrying bounced away, spilling a few pages over the lawn.

“Ow.” Crowley sat up and rubbed his head. 

“Oh dear.” Aziraphale got up and rushed over to him. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Crowley accepted Aziraphale’s hand and got up. “Sorry. That wasn’t exactly cool.”

“You could have just used the gate,” Aziraphale said.

“I wasn’t sure you’d let me in.” Crowley shrugged and started picking up his papers. 

“So you just broke in uninvited?”

“You were crying.”

“I told you I wasn’t crying.” Aziraphale crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m sick.”

“Why were you crying?” Crowley asked. He gathered the last of his papers, shoving them in the case and holding it under his arm. He looked at Aziraphale pointedly.

“What are you even doing here?” Aziraphale turned his back on him and strode back over to his bench. “I thought you lived out of town.”

“Yeah, I do.” Crowley followed Aziraphale over, sitting on the bench next to him, earning him a side glare he chose to ignore. “But I’m doing a lot of work in town so I’m shacking up at Michael and Uriel’s.”

“How kind of them to take you in,” Aziraphale said. 

“Oh trust me, I pay for it in daily torture.” Crowley placed his case on his lap and rested his elbows on it, leaning over to Aziraphale. “So why were you crying again?”

Aziraphale frowned at him. He wiped his cheeks to be sure they were dry. “I wasn’t crying.”

“You are a terrible liar.”

Aziraphale folded his hands in his lap and looked away. He didn’t need to say. Crowley knew. That damn husband of his was why he was crying. He either hit him, or yelled at him or...or...Crowley shuddered, he didn’t want to think about it.

“Aziraphale I don’t understand it. Why don’t you just leave? You’re clearly not happy here.”

“Don’t make assumptions about me, Crowley. I’ll have you know I am very happy.”

“Is that why you’re crying? Why you look so miserable at the parties. Why you spend your days so alone you’d be willing to befriend a known homewrecker?”

Aziraphale stood up and walked away. “You really must stop thinking that you know everything. Just because I wanted to be your friend doesn’t mean I’m alone. And just because I was crying tonight doesn't mean I’m sad.”

“Aha!” Crowley jumped up, case falling to the floor. “You were crying!”

Aziraphale opened his mouth then clenched it close. “You are infuriating!”

Crowley smirked. “Thanks.”

“What are you doing out so late, hm? Seducing another client?”

Crowley chuckled and picked up his case. “Just doing some work on the garden paintings.”

Aziraphale wandered back over, looking the case up and down. “But it’s so dark. Surely you can’t have been painting in the dark?”

Crowley sat down, opening the case on his lap. He patted the seat next to him. Aziraphale sighed and looked up at the house. Nothing and no one seemed to be moving around, so he deemed it safe to sit. 

Crowley handed him a piece of paper. Aziraphale squinted at it. It was a flower bush, painting in grays and silvers, plants diluted as they reflected the moonlight. 

“Nighttime has some of the best views,” Crowley said. “You ever been to the garden at night?”

Aziraphale shook his head. 

“Oh, you simply have to! C’mon!” Crowley jumped up again, placing his case on the bench. He held his hand out. “It’s not that far.”

“I can’t!”

“Why not?”

“It’s the middle of the night!”

Crowley shrugged. “That’s the point. Ah, come on, where’s your sense of adventure? Channel your inner Dangerous Dan, hm?”

Aziraphale bit his lip. That was a damn good argument and he hated how well it worked. He knew that if Gabriel woke up and he wasn’t here...well, he didn’t even want to think about it. But Crowley’s eyes were shining at him, almost looking yellow with giddy joy. And Aziraphale really always did wish he was adventurous.

“Fine.” He took Crowley’s hand and let him pull him up. “But we have to be quick.”

-

Crowley smiled, watching Aziraphale’s face. It was lit up, not just by the moonlight. He was gazing out at the garden, hands gripping each other tight. “It’s simply marvelous,” he said, his voice light and airy.

“Yeah. I told you.” Crowley shoved his hands in his pockets, mainly to stop from reaching out to touch Aziraphale. “Beautiful.”

“Thank you for showing me this,” Aziraphale said. 

“Thanks for coming.”

Aziraphale smiled at him and Crowley bit his lip. He could feel it. It was there. That spark of electricity between them. Aziraphale wanted him. Was attracted to him. And Crowley sure as hell felt the same way. He almost leaned in. In fact, he started to. But then he stopped himself, pulling back abruptly and turning his focus to the garden. Aziraphale was too damn adorable for his own good.

“Thank you,” Aziraphale said.

“You already said that.”

“For not trying to kiss me.”

Crowley glanced over at him. “Huh?”

Aziraphale sighed, and turned to face him, fingers fidgeting. “I know that you want to. And I appreciate your restraint.”

“Oh. Uh...you’re welcome?” No one had ever thanked him for that before. Granted, he never had restraint before. “I mean,” he shrugged, glad it was too dark to see the blush on his face properly. “It’d be pretty unfriendly of me if I did.”

Aziraphale nodded. “We should head back before it gets too late.”

“One second.” Crowley disappeared into the garden, bushes rustling here and there as he moved. He appeared a few minutes later, holding a blue bell flower out to Aziraphale. “Here.”

Aziraphale looked at it. “I really shouldn't accept any flowers from you,” he said. “I wouldn’t want to give you the wrong idea.”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “It’s not anything like that, sheesh. I just,” he shook the flower at him, “you know, if you ever get...if it ever happens again...it’s good to have something to focus on. Something you can look at and think about a happy memory. At least, I hope this is a happy memory.”

Aziraphale smiled and took the flower. “A very happy memory,” he said. “Thank you.”

Crowley smiled and they walked back home. Aziraphale placed the flower in one of the bushes next to his bench. Now, whenever he felt like he needed to cry, he could come outside and look at his flower, and think on a happy memory. And those were few and far between.


	4. Spring Fling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if mayors were a thing in Victorian England but they are now

Aziraphale didn’t usually eat breakfast at the table when he was alone. He preferred to eat at his desk, while he wrote. He had more than a few stains on his journals but he didn’t mind. Sitting at the table alone was insufferable. He didn’t know how Gabriel did it every morning. But if he started to think about it too much he would feel bad about how he didn’t wake up with him, didn’t sit and eat with him like he should. 

“Good Morning, Master Aziraphale,” Bentley greeted as he wandered into the kitchen. “What shall I make you for today?”

“I’m not terribly hungry,” Aziraphale said. If anything he was tired. And sick. There was a knot in his stomach that had formed the moment he thought Crowley might try to kiss him last night. It pulled tight at his guts because for a moment, just before Crowley pulled away, Aziraphale would have let him. 

Bentley gave him a knowing look. “I’m sure Mast Gabriel will be delighted to know he can get away with that excuse from now on.”

Aziraphale sighed and picked up a muffin from the counter. “I’ll have one of these,” he said, taking a small bit. It made his stomach churn. 

“Very well, sir,” Bentley said. 

Aziraphale took his muffin and went to the drawing room. He stopped in the doorway. Gabriel was sitting on the couch, one leg crossed over the other, one arm resting on the back of the couch while the other held a book open before him. 

“Gabriel?” Aziraphale said, mouth going a bit dry. “What are you doing here?”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m pretty sure I live here.”

Aziraphale chuckled, a bit nervous. “I meant why aren’t you at work?”

“Oh, well, you said I needed some rest.” Gabriel shrugged. “So I took the day off.”

Aziraphale smiled and entered the room. “But you’ve never taken a day off!”

“That’s alright with you, isn’t it?” Gabriel asked.

“Oh but of course!” Aziraphale knelt on the couch next to him. “You really do deserve some rest.” He craned his neck to see the cover of the book. “What are you rea-” 

Aziraphale snatched the book out of Gabriel’s hands, holding it close to his chest, heart pounding against it so hard he was sure it would break something. He felt hot, like sparks of energy were traveling all over his body.

Gabriel blinked at where the book had once been. He placed his hand on his knee and looked over at Aziraphale with a slightly bemused expression. 

“Sorry,” Aziraphale said, blushing at his rushed actions. “I just, why are you reading this?”

“Because you wrote it.”

“But you’ve never read anything I’ve written before.”

Gabriel shrugged. “I never had the time. But I do today.”

“Look, just...this is personal okay?” He bit his lip, wondering if Gabriel had gotten to the bit with the prince yet. Worrying over what he would think about it. 

“Thousands of people read these books, Aziraphale. If they were so personal then why did you publish them?”

Aziraphale shied away. He looked down, picking at the edges of the book. “Well, yes. But those people don’t know I wrote them. It’s different.”

Gabriel sighed and leaned back on the couch. “If you don’t want me to read them then I won’t.”

“Thank you.” Aziraphale got up and put the book back on the shelf. He was relieved. Gabriel wouldn’t read them and find out all his secrets and desires. He was guilty. Gabriel had tried to show support of his work and he had denied him that. He sighed and turned around. “So. What would you like to do today?”

Gabriel shook his head. “What would you like to do?”

Aziraphale waved a finger at him. “I asked you first.” He sat down on the couch, hands in his lap. He eyed the way Gabriel’s arm hung against the back of the couch, opening his side up. Aziraphale would fit quite nicely up against that side.

Gabriel took a deep breath. “To be honest I’m not sure. As you said, I haven’t had a day off in a while. I’m afraid I’m not sure what to do with my time.”

“Oh. Well, we could go for a walk,” Aziraphale suggested. “It’s really quite nice outside. And the fresh air does wonders for you.”

Gabriel shook his head. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

Right. Aziraphale hug his head. No need to be out and about together, where people could see them and say things, if they didn’t have to be. After all, what would people say if they saw Gabriel missing work to walk about town with Aziraphale. There goes that murderer and his whore. Spending their money frivolously and doing nothing to earn it back.

He heard Gabriel gulp. “But if that’s what you would like to do we can go.”

“No, no.” Aziraphale forced a smile on his face. “It’s okay. There’s plenty to do inside.”

Gabriel nodded and waited for Aziraphale to suggest something else. Aziraphale’s ‘suggestion’ was to scoot over, turning his body so he could lay against Gabriel’s side. 

“Aziraphale, you don’t have-”

“It’s relaxing. Trust me.” Aziraphale reached up and grabbed Gabriel’s arms, laying it over his shoulders. “Just close your eyes.” 

He closed his own, giving a soft sigh as he relaxed against Gabriel’s body. He could feel Gabriel’s pulse increasing. He shifted a bit, but away. Aziraphale frowned and refused to move. They stayed there for a while, Gabriel stiff and warm, Aziraphale quiet and still.

Aziraphale only sat up when Bentley entered, a small bundle of letters in his hand. “Mail’s in, sir.”

Aziraphale reached out and took them. “Thank you.”

Gabriel cleared his throat and settled back against the couch as Aziraphale started to open the letters. 

“The Crichton’s are having a dinner next week,” he announced.

Gabriel’s eyes closed. “Great.”

Aziraphale smiled at him. “It’s just dinner. At least there’ll be good food. They have that new chef after all. The one from France? I bet he makes amazing meals.”

Gabriel nodded. “At least there’s that. Anything else interesting?”

Aziraphale looked at the next envelope and handed it, un opened to Gabriel. “Something from your brother.”

“Good.” Gabriel took the letter, ripped it in half, and set it down on the coffee table. 

Aziraphale stared at it. “Don’t-don’t you want to at least see what he has to say?”

“No.”

Aziraphale sighed, eyeing up the torn paper as he opened the next envelope. He forgot the letter as soon as he read the contents of this one. “Oh how wonderful!”

Gabriel sat up a bit. “What?”

“The town is throwing a little festival for the start of spring later this week. Are we going?” Aziraphale looked to Gabriel excitedly, eyes wide and bright, smile hopeful.

“Would you like to go?” Gabriel asked. 

Aziraphale gave him a look. “I asked you first.”

Gabriel smiled at him. “We can go.”

“But do you want to?”

Gabriel leaned over, pressing a soft kiss to Aziraphale’s forehead. “We’ll go.”

-

Crowley was finding it hard to focus. It had nothing to do with the young girl was was squirming in her seat as her mother pinched her shoulder to get her to stay still. His hand continued to draw. Luckily he was so used to drawing people’s faces he could sort of auto-pilot for a while. Lucky because he had caught sight of Aziraphale.

He was draped around Gabriel’s arm again but he wasn’t frowning. He was smiling, god bless his beautiful soul. And his beautiful face. He was looking around at all the stalls and decorations and the food. It didn’t seem to matter how many people gave him looks, or moved away from him. He looked determined to have a good time and damn if anyone ruined that for him.

Crowley turned his attention back to his work, figuring he’d better finish up before the girl or her mom started to yell at the other. “There you are,” Crowley said, ripping the paper off his pad and handing it to the girl, who eagerly reached out for it.

She giggled. “Mommy, we look funny!”

Her mother smiled and agreed. She handed Crowley a few bills and then the two left. Crowley started cleaning up his area a bit. There had been quite a rush of people at the festival, and he hadn’t really had time to keep organized. 

“Crowley!” A familiarly joyful voice said. 

Crowley smiled and looked up. Aziraphale was standing before him, holding Gabriel’s hand. “Hey there, Aziraphale.”

“What are you doing here?” Aziraphale asked. Gabriel was looking around at the crowd as they talked, his grip pulsing on Aziraphale’s hand.

“Well, I was going to be here anyway. Figured I’d do some work, make a little money, eh?”

“You’re doing portraits?”

“Caricatures.”

“Oh how fun!”

“You want one?”

Aziraphale tugged on Gabriel’s hand, getting his attention. “Would you do one with me, Gabriel?”

Gabriel gave Crowley a quick glance but shrugged, nodding slightly.

Crowley frowned as they sat in the seats. He had hoped to get Aziraphale alone, monopolize his time while Gabriel went of and did who cares what. But no. Of course not. Gabriel was too possessive to have Aziraphale be off in public alone.

“How are you enjoying the festivities so far?” Crowley asked.

“Oh it’s so much fun! I love big events like this. Everyone’s just having such a wonderful time.”

Crowley almost smiled as he started to draw. Gabriel looked miserable, sitting there with a frown, watching the crowd with uninteresting eyes as Aziraphale chatted away. Serves him right, Crowley thought. Dragging Aziraphale to all those places. Now it was his turn to suffer. 

“Yeah, things like this are great.” Crowley focused on Aziraphale’s face which was a bad idea. God, he was so cute. He accentuated his cheeks, reddening them to mimic the cute little blushes he had when they talked. 

“Have you had time to try any of the food? The farmers around here grow some of the most delicious fruits.”

“Not yet,” Crowley said. “But I’ll take a break eventually.”

“Don’t your hands get tired?” Aziraphale tilted his head, leaning forward slightly as if trying to x-ray Crowley’s wrists.

“Eh. They get over it eventually.”

Aziraphale pouted and sat back in his seat. Crowley smirked and mimicked that pout in his drawing. 

“You really should take better care of yourself. If you push yourself too far now, you’ll be in terrible shape when you’re older.”

Crowley shrugged. “I prefer to live in the present.” He finally forced himself to glance at Gabriel. He cursed under his breath. Damn guy was too gorgeous to really find anything to make fun of. He could accentuate the sharp lines and angles of his face, but as he did that just made him look good. At least he had the frown to work with. 

Aziraphale’s head shook. “I don’t get it. Gabriel doesn’t take care of himself either.” At the mention of his name, Gabriel looked over. “He barely eats, you know.” Gabriel looked back away, a small, fond smile on his face that ruined Crowley’s mood. 

“Not eating is hardly a crime,” Crowley said. 

Aziraphale tightened his grip on Gabriel’s hand. “I’m always dreadfully worried he’s just going to work himself too hard and hurt himself.” Aziraphale’s face softened a bit, less happy and more sincere. “I wouldn’t want that to happen to you, either.”

Crowley gulped. Less at the things that Aziraphale said and more at the way that Gabriel’s eyes slid over to look at him, squinted. 

Crowley cleared his throat. “Well. All done!” He tore the paper off and rolled it up, tying a little ribbon around it. He handed it to Aziraphale as they stood up.

“Thank you.” Aziraphale took the paper and dug into his pocket, pulling out some money.

“Oh, no, no,” Crowley said, waving his hand and standing up. “Please, it’s on me.”

Gabriel’s body went stiff. Aziraphale chuckled nervously.

“I insist.” Aziraphale held out money to him, a pleading look in his eyes. Crowley frowned and took it. “Thank you very much. I do hope you get some time to enjoy the festival.”

And with that Gabriel was dragging him away. Crowley sighed and sat back down. Every time he saw Aziraphale his desire to be with him grew. This was more than just a crush, more than just a hot employer he wanted to bang. He genuinely liked Aziraphale, and liked him more and more with each conversation. 

“Crowley, Crowley, Crowley.”

The voice sent a terrible shiver down Crowley’s spine. He turned around, disgust on his face. 

“Hastur,” he said. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Could ask you the same thing,” Hastur said. And what the heck was he wearing? It was some kind of suit but wrong. Like he was trying to be fashionable but had hired a two-bit tailor to copy a design. 

Ligur was there too, of course. The two were damn-near inseparable. They were holding hands. “Hastur’s been commissioned by the mayor,” Ligur said, proud smile on his face. 

Crowley’s mouth fell open.

“Don’t act so surprised, Crowley,” Hastur said. “What did you expect? You could just waste your time away doing caricatures and expect to get to my level?”

Crowley closed his mouth, scowling instead. I do more than caricatures, Crowley thought. But he didn’t say it. It wouldn’t mean anything. “What were you commissioned for? Oh, oh, wait! Let me guess. He wants you to paint the trash? That is all you paint, after all.”

Ligur took a step forward, squinting at Crowley. “You can insult him all you want, Crowley. But he’s better than you and you know it! Besides.” Ligur smiled, a real sickening sight. “He’s not a trollop.”

“Trollop?” Crowley said. “Really?”

“Hastur is faithful.” Ligur stepped back, rubbing Hastur’s arm. “Something you would never understand.”

Crowley scoffed. “Faithful cause he hasn’t gotten caught.”

Ligur’s face fell. 

“Come on,” Hastur said. “No need to waste our time on this filth!” Hastur spat at him, literally spat at him and walked away. 

Crowley stared at the mucus spot on the ground by his feet. Great. He was stuck in this town doing all of his work, and now he had to do it with Hastur around every corner. He considered just canceling everything and going home. And he would have. Except he was working for Aziraphale. And he could never cancel on him.


	5. Dinner Disaster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't wait for how many times Uriel is going to hit Crowley for how much of an idiot he is sometimes

Uriel’s heels taped sharp against the floor as she entered the room. She sighed. “Crowley, get your feet off of my couch.”

Crowley didn’t move. He lay sideways, head thrown over the arm of the sofa, his feet resting on the other. “I can’t,” he mumbled. “I’m in mourning.”

Uriel groaned and clicked her way over. She shoved his feet to the floor and Crowley let the momentum carry him, rolling off the couch and landing on his face. He didn’t even wince. He did moan though, low and guttural.

“Get over it, Crowley.” Uriel sat on the couch and placed her feet on his butt. She shook him a bit. “Laying around moping isn’t going to make anything better.”

Crowley’s response was a groan. 

“Uriel,” Michael said, entering the room, looking around. “Did you bring another cat home?”

Uriel laughed and lightly pushed at Crowley. “Not a cat but a stray for sure.”

Michale stood before Crowley and looked down, arms crossed. “Crowley, get up.”

Crowley groaned. “Can’t you just let me be miserable?” He flopped onto his back, arm and leg pressed against the coffee table. He frowned up at Michael. 

Michale’s head tilted and she tapped her foot. “You’re being ridiculous. So what if Hastur’s been commissioned to paint a town mural? You’re probably making more money than him with all your portrait work.”

Crowley grimaced at the mention of that name and crawled under the table, rolling himself into a ball.

“Really, Crowley, this is no way to behave.” Michael sighed and sat down on the couch next to Uriel. “If you don’t pull yourself together I’m going to kick you out.”

“Good,” Crowley mumbled. “Let me lie in the gutter where I belong.”

Uriel rolled her eyes. She looked over at her wife. “We have to find a way to cheer him up. He’s ruining the ambiance of the room.”

Michael kicked a leg out, nudging Crowley with her foot. “Hey, lump.”

Crowley groaned. “Whaaaaat?”

“The Crichton’s are having a dinner tonight and you’re going with us.”

Crowley huffed.

“They’ve invited Gabriel,” Michael added.

Crowley moaned and shivered.

“Which means,” Uriel said, “that Aziraphale will be there.”

Crowley didn’t make any noise. He stilled, and then looked over his shoulder at them, still pouting a bit. “Do I have to wear anything fancy?”

-

Gabriel had tried to trick him. It wasn’t the first time it happened. And it still hadn’t worked. Because even though Gabriel was smart, and knew Aziraphale like the back of his hand, Aziraphale had a secret defensive weapon. Bentley.

Aziraphale knew that Gabriel was up to something whenever he bought him a book. Unless it was his birthday or Christmas. Aziraphale usually bought his own books. So when Gabriel came home from work and handed him a new one with a kiss on the cheek, Aziraphale knew it was a diversion. And of course it would work because Aziraphale was many things and a lover of literature was one of them. 

He would sit down and start to read, of course. Partially because he didn’t want to ignore a gift from his husband, and partially because Gabriel was really good at picking out books he liked. And, as always happened when he was reading, he’d get so engrossed that he’d lose track of time. 

“Ahem,” Bentley said, a clear fake cough.

Aziraphale startled and looked up at him. 

“I am to remind you that you have dinner at the Crichton’s tonight.”

“Oh yes! Oh, thank you so much, Bentley.”

Bentley nodded and walked away. Aziraphale closed his book, shaking his head as he went to get ready. He had a whole shelf of Gabriel’s failed attempts at distraction. He kept them on a little bookshelf in Gabriel’s home office.

“A nice try, my dear,” Aziraphale said, entering their dressing room. He crossed to his closet to find what outfit would be best for the evening. “But doomed to fail.”

Gabriel sighed and shook his head, buttoning up his shirt. “Why does he always listen to you over me?”

Aziraphale laid his outfit on the chair and started to undress. “It probably has something to do with the fact that I pay him.” (Gabriel hadn’t wanted a butler. Aziraphale was the one who insisted, citing that Gabriel was so used to one it would be a terrible adjustment if he suddenly was without. The truth was that Aziraphale knew he would be terrible at taking care of a house and cooking and all that and he didn’t want Gabriel to suffer for it.)

“Would it really be so bad?” Gabriel asked. He smoothed out his sleeves and buttoned the cuffs together. “If we didn’t go to any of these things? Would it be that horrible?”

Aziraphale stepped into his trousers. “It would be rude. If you started turning down invitations you’d be ostracized.”

“I don’t care.”

Aziraphale gave him a look, shrugging his shirt on. “I thought we agreed on no lies,” said the biggest hypocrite on Earth. He knew Gabriel about as well as Gabriel knew him. If Gabriel was guilty of any sin it would be pride. He was proud, and Aziraphale thought he had every right to be. He was proud of his job. Proud of his house. He had once been proud of his family. And one day, Aziraphale hoped, he would be proud of his husband. He had an in with the upper circles of the world and he liked it. Aziraphale had let Gabriel give up a lot of things for him in the past, but this would not be one of them.

Gabriel sighed, grabbing his tie and wrapping it over his neck. “Why don’t we just find someone who looks like you and hire them to go to all this stuff?”

Aziraphale smiled at him. He crossed the room and took the tie from Gabriel’s hands, knotting it for him. Not because he had to, but because he wanted to. “I think it’s cute how you think that anyone out there could pull me off.”

Gabriel smiled back at him. Soft and sweet. He placed a warm hand on Aziraphale’s cheek. As always it was Aziraphale who had to lean in, to press the kiss of their lips together. Gabriel? Initiating an actual kiss on the lips? Unheard of.

“Come on then,” Aziraphale said, patting Gabriel’s chest and very unwillingly moving away from the touch of his hand. “We don’t want to be late.”

-

Crowley had stopped paying attention to the conversation a long time ago. He nodded his head, sipped at his drink, laughed with those around him laughed. He kept his eyes trained on the door until his salvation arrived.

Mrs. Crichton led Gabriel and Aziraphale into the drawing-room. She said something, gave a truly disgusting glance at Aziraphale, and then flittered away. Gabriel’s body went stiff and he shook his head. He whispered something to Aziraphale, who shook his head back at him and patted his arm. With what Crowley knew was a contained groan, Gabriel led Aziraphale further into the room, hands held tight.

Crowley pulled away from the conversation as Aziraphale and Gabriel met with Michael and Uriel. He didn’t bother to say anything or even indicate that he was leaving. These snobs had snubbed Aziraphale so many times he didn’t even care if he did the same. Serves them right.

“Aziraphale, hi,” he greeted, smiling that deviously charming smile of his.

“Crowley? I didn’t know you were coming.”

Crowley shrugged and grabbed Aziraphale’s elbow. “Let’s go chat.” He started to pull him away but Aziraphale didn’t budge. He gave him a look and shook his head. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were completely engrossed in the conversation not involving you.”

He gave the other three a hard look. He hadn’t meant to mean anything terribly malicious by it. Michael and Uriel had given him a whole spiel about how everyone thought it was rather ‘charming’ that he was making an acquaintance with Aziraphale but that if they were to do so outside the privacy of their own homes they would face a similar fate as him. Crowley thought that was absolutely ridiculous and had refused to talk to them for all of two hours before getting over it. He understood high society. He hated it, but he got it.

It was an awkward moment. Gabriel glared at Crowley intensely, his eyes on fire. Michael and Uriel were looking away, almost as if ashamed. And Aziraphale, poor, precious Aziraphale, was trying to stutter out an excuse for them.

“That’s what I thought,” Crowley said. He pulled again and Aziraphale stepped with him, stopped only by Gabriel’s hand. 

Crowley rolled his eyes. Aziraphale gave Gabriel a small smile and then opened his hand. Glare never leaving Crowley, Gabriel released Aziraphale’s hand, letting him be dragged off to the corner of the room.

Crowley stood with his back to the rest of the room, wanting to focus his attention on Aziraphale only. “He’s still glaring at me, isn’t he?” He could feel the heat on the back of his head.

“Yes,” Aziraphale said. Crowley sighed and shook his head. “He just wants to make sure I’m okay.”

“What does he think I’m going to do? Rip your clothes off and ravish you right here on the floor?”

Aziraphale chuckled softly. “Well, that would be a show.” He licked his lips and quickly looked Crowley up and down. He noticed it.

“What?” Crowley stepped back a bit, holding his arms out and looking down at himself. He had borrowed a suit from Michael, finding that it actually fit quite well if not a little sung down south. He had even gone so far as to slick his hair back. “Something wrong with my outfit?”

“Oh, no,” Aziraphale said. And there was that blush. “I’ve just, I’ve never seen you so...put together before. You look...nice.”

Crowley stepped back up, closer than he had been before. “And if Gabriel wasn’t standing ten feet away you’d say…”

Aziraphale gave him a look but went along with it. “You look rather handsome.”

Crowley smiled. “You don’t look half bad yourself.”

Aziraphale’s blush deepened and he looked down. “Thank you.”

Crowley could actually feel the rage in the room that was radiating off of Gabriel. He sure did love to mess with the guy, but he also liked not losing his head to a ‘misplaced’ knife over dinner. He reluctantly took a step back. 

“So, what was with the whole, look thing when you got here?”

“Hm?” Aziraphale looked up at him, relief in his eyes.

“When you guys got here. The old crone said something and Gabriel did that whole, statuesque frown thing.”

“Oh yes, that! You know, I think you captured that face quite well in your drawing! How do you do it?”

Crowley smirked. He was impressed. For someone who didn’t seem to talk to people much, Aziraphale was quite skilled at deflecting topics of conversation. “Don’t change the subject,” Crowley said. “What did she say?”

Aziraphale frowned. “It’s really not important.”

Crowley waited.

“She was just thrown off is all. She had sent the invitation to Gabriel, is all. And hadn’t expected him to bring a guest. So she had to adjust things and really, it was all last minute so it’s understandable.”

“Huh.” Crowley let his mouth hang open. “That’s strange. Cause, you see, I hadn’t been invited either. Michael and Uriel decided to bring me along last minute. She said she was pleased as punch to have another guest and that it was no trouble at all.”

“Don’t play dumb, Crowley,” Aziraphale snapped with a fury that surprised him. “You know exactly why she said that.”

Crowley gulped, feeling very warm and ashamed. He hadn’t meant to make Aziraphale upset. He just wanted to let him know he was on his side. He wanted Aziraphale to know that if he was his husband, he’d never let anyone get away with saying something like that. He would yell at them, say something snarky back, maybe even punch them, and then leave, taking Aziraphale with him. He would never put Aziraphale in the kinds of situations that Gabriel did.

Before any apologies could be made a bell was rung, announcing dinner was ready. Aziraphale pushed his way around Crowley and joined back up with Gabriel. Crowley sighed and downed the rest of his drink. 

-

Dinner had been both good and bad.

Good: the food. Bad: the wine.

Bad: Couples usually sat across from each other at events such as this. If they could help it, no host had ever sat Aziraphale and Gabriel across from each other. Good: Aziraphale got to sit across from Crowley.

Good: Mr. Crichton had decided that dinner was the perfect time to recount his trip to Venice, which was long, boring, and that he demanded everyone paid attention to. This turned the lack of talking to Aziraphale from a conscious choice to ignore him to the rapt attention of someone else. Meaning Crowley wouldn’t make any more rude comments about it. Bad: Aziraphale and Crowley didn't’ get to talk. (And he had been meaning to apologize about snapping at him). Somewhere between good and bad: Crowley's foot kept touching his.

Good: Gabriel went to work early and had managed to successfully talk their way out of staying for post-dinner drinks. Bad, very, very bad: Upon saying goodbye, Crowley had, in front of everyone, taken Aziraphale’s hand and, because he clearly had no self-preservation, pressed a kiss to the back of his knuckles.

Aziraphale pulled his hand away as soon as the lips touched it. He shook. He tried to give Crowley a pompous look that said ‘how dare thee kiss me, serpent’ but could only muster fear and panic that said ‘how could you be so stupid’. It was the one time Aziraphale was glad that people ignored him as everyone shuffled off to the drawing-room. 

But Gabriel hadn’t been ignoring it. 

His grip tightened on Aziraphale’s other hand. (He had been holding Gabriel’s hand, Crowley, you absolute idiot!). It hurt a bit. Aziraphale wanted to tell Crowley off, to yell and scream at him, maybe slap him again if he could stop shaking. But he was in so much shock that all he could do was let Gabriel pull him away.

He said nothing as they got in their carriage and headed home. Aziraphale sat on the other side of him, still shaking. If he closed his eyes he could see it, Crowley’s lips, puckered and placed against his skin. Good: it had at least felt nice. Bad: Aziraphale kept thinking about those lips on other places. His cheek. His lips. His neck.

“Please say something,” Aziraphale blurted out. He couldn’t be left alone with his thoughts.

Gabriel had been looking out the window. He didn’t move. “How did you like dinner?”

“The food was good,” Aziraphale said. Breathing was hard. “Wine was shit, though.”

Gabriel nodded and Azirapahle’s jaw started to shake with the rest of him, his teeth chattering. He felt so abuzz inside that he was sure he was just filled with flies. 

Eventually, Gabriel’s head slowly turned to fix a hard stare on Aziraphale. Not scary. Not angry. Not threatening. Hurt. 

“Do you like him?”

“No! I mean...he’s my friend. Was! Was my friend. I liked him as a friend but nothing more!”

“He likes you.” Gabriel’s attention went back to the window. 

One more bump from the carriage and Aziraphale was certain he would throw up. His stomach flipped and turned inside him, his back ached, his muscles grew tired. Breathing. Had he even ever been able to breathe?

“I’m never seeing him again! I’m serious! You know I would never let anything happen! And so does he! He’s just...he’s like that! He likes to upset people. And I’m never going to forgive him for that! Never!”

Gabriel didn’t say anything. Aziraphale leaned forward, hands on Gabriel’s knees. 

“Gabriel?”

He didn’t say another word all night long.


	6. That One Window Apology Scene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not a victorian romance if someone isn't climbing a tree to talk to the object of their desire through a window.

Crowley moved slowly throughout the house. He had successfully avoided Michael and Uriel all morning. That was one of the good things about being in a big house, lots of places to hide. Unfortunately, Crowley was getting rather hungry. He had walked back to the house last night after the incident, not wanting to spend the carriage ride back being berated. He had changed, grabbed some blankets, and found a nice little wardrobe in an unused room he could curl up and die in. If only he had had the sense of mind to grab some food. 

Well. Being smart wasn’t exactly on his resume.

The floor creaked under his toe, Crowley wincing as the rest of his foot followed the step. He tensed, waiting. He heard heels clicking their way towards him. His eyes glanced to the nearest door and he rushed inside. To the library. To where Uriel was standing at a shelf. Holding a book in her hand.

Shit.

“You!” 

Crowley turned to race out of the room but Michael was approaching, blocking his exit. He grimaced and ran further into the room. His only option. Uriel chased after him, brandishing the book like a weapon. She managed to catch up, hitting him with the book as he tried to get away.

“You idiot!” Smack. “You big dumb idiot!” Smack. Smack. “What is your problem?” Smack.

Crowley had let himself get cornered, falling backward onto the couch his only saving hope for getting away. He didn’t. Uriel fell on top of him, straddling him so he couldn’t get up, continuing to hit him with the book. Thankfully it wasn’t a terribly large one. 

“You are so stupid!” Smack. “I can’t believe it!” Smack. “Do you have brain damage?”

Crowley brought his arms up to protect himself from the onslaught. “I might if you keep hitting me!”

Uriel stopped, breathing hard above him. She lowered her arms, book resting at the side. “What is wrong with you?”

He didn’t know. He hazard a, probably correct, guess. “I wasn’t held enough as a child?”

Uriel’s face scrunched up and she started hitting him again. Thankfully she only managed to get a few swats in before Michael grabbed her around the waist, pulling her away. 

“What were you thinking, Crowley?” Michael asked, continuing to hold her wife, who struggled slightly at her constant need to be hitting him.

Crowley shrugged, letting himself sit up. “I wasn’t.”

“You had to be thinking something. I mean, why would you do that? What did you hope to accomplish?”

Crowley frowned. “I just wanted…” I wanted to know what it was like. I wanted to let Aziraphale know that I liked him. That I loved him. I wanted to show him how it could be, with me. How better his life would be. How good we could be together. He sighed, deflating against the couch. “I just wanted to mess with Gabriel was all.”

Michael shook her head and released Uriel, who was on him in a minute.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she said, hitting him three more times for good measure. Then she seemed to tire of it, putting the book down and walking away. 

“Look, I know it was dumb. But I’ll fix it.”

“No!” Uriel spun back around holding her hands out like she was going to choke him. “You do not fix this, Crowley. You let it go!”

“But I like him.” Crowley pouted. They couldn't say no to his pout.

“He’s married, idiot!” Uriel rolled her eyes and huffed. “God, you are so dumb!”

“So what if he’s married.” Crowley crossed his arms, pout turning to a scowl. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

“You don’t get it, Crowley.” Michael had taken over for Uriel in the ongoing lecture of his life. “Aziraphale is not going to leave Gabriel for you.” His scowl deepened and he looked away. “He just won’t.”

“He likes me,” Crowley said. “I know he does, I can feel it!”

Michael shook her head. “It’s not going to happen.”

“Right. Well. I’m going over to apologize.”

“No!” Michael and Uriel both shouted, arms extended to stop him from getting off the couch. 

“What?”

“If Gabriel sees you, he will kill you,” Uriel said. 

“Oh, please,” Crowley rolled his eyes. “He’s not gonna hurt me. He’s too posh for that.”

“You don’t understand.” Michael crouched down, eye level with him. “He was here this morning. Looking for you. I have never seen that look in his eyes before, Crowley. It was...Do not go over there.”

Crowley gulped. Michael has never been scared for as long as he’s known her. Nervous sure? (She was an absolute wreck on her wedding day) but scared? Never. The fact that she was scared enough to be speechless? It certainly held some weight.

But not enough weight, as it turned out. 

“I don’t care.” Crowley pushed himself off the couch. “I’m going over and I’m not leaving until Aziraphale accepts my apology.”

“It doesn’t matter if he does,” Uriel said.

Crowley gave the two of them a smirk. “That’s where you’re wrong. All that matters is if Aziraphale forgives me.”

He turned and raced out of the room, already picturing Uriel picking up the book to chase after him.

“Crowley, wait!” Michael called out.

Crowley had the door opened but he stopped. He rolled his eyes and turned around. “What?”

Michael glanced down at his feet. “You aren’t wearing any shoes.”

Crowley looked down. “Oh. Right. That would hurt.” He raced upstairs to grab some, not a moment to lose.

And he was very thankful he had done that as he ran down the street to Aziraphale’s house. And Gabriel’s, he had to remind himself. He pounded his fist against the door, not caring if Gabriel opened it, not caring if he attacked him or tried to kill him or whatever. All he cared about was seeing Aziraphale again. At being able to at least apologize, even if he was bleeding out on the carpet from Gabriel stabbing him.

But thankfully it was Bently who opened the door. “Can I help you?”

“Hi, yeah, I need to see Aziraphale.” 

“I’m afraid he’s not seeing anyone today. He’s rather ill.”

Crowley bit his lip. It’s okay, he told himself. It was just a lie, is all. A lie Aziraphale was giving to make him go away because he was still mad. Gabriel hadn’t hurt him. Crowley hadn’t caused that.

The door started to close. “No, no, no, wait!” Crowley stuck a hand out, pushing the door back open. “Please. It’s important. I need to see him.”

Bentley stared at him and Crowley didn’t even have to pout. He knew he looked pathetic and wrecked. But hey, at least it worked.

“I’m afraid he really is quite ill. Taken to bed, you see. On the East side.” He gave Crowley a look. Crowley shook his head. Bentley sighed. “Second floor? Third window?”

Crowley’s mouth opened and he nodded. 

“Good day, sir. I’ll be sure to let him know you stopped by.” 

The door closed and Crowley let it. He jogged around to the side of the house and smiled. He had always been a fan of trees.

-

What was even the point of trying anymore? Aziraphale sniffed and hugged the pillow closer to his chest. He buried his face against it, pretending it was Gabriel. But it wasn’t. And it hadn’t been last night either. 

As soon as they got home Gabriel had gone into his office and closed the door. And he hadn’t come out until morning. 

Aziraphale wasn’t even sure if he had slept at all. He just remembered crying. Thinking his terrible thoughts about how he was the worst husband and Gabriel deserved so much better. Next thing he knew Bentley was knocking on the door asking if he wanted a tray brought up for breakfast. He had sent him away. He didn’t deserve food and even if he did, he couldn’t possibly eat with how sick he felt. 

There was a soft tapping against his window. Aziraphale rolled over, taking the pillow with him, curling deeper under the covers. It was probably just some bird. He hoped it wouldn’t start singing. That would really kill the depressed mood he had going on. 

Tapping again. Louder, faster. It was probably just the wind knocking a branch against the window. That’s all. 

Harder. A palm being slapped against glass. So loud Aziraphale was sure even Bentley could hear it. He groaned and rolled out of bed, shuffling over to the window. He pulled the shades back, saw Crowley’s face, and immediately closed them again.

“I’m not leaving this tree until you talk to me!” Crowley called out as Aziraphale shuffled back to his bed. 

“I’m sure you’ll have a lovely winter.” Azirapahle cursed himself. He hadn’t meant to engage in conversation with him. Now he really wouldn’t leave. 

“Please! I’m sorry, okay?”

Aziraphale crawled into the bed, pulling the covers over his head and screwing his eyes shut. “Go away!” He cursed himself again. Stop talking to him!

“Look, I get it, okay? You’re mad. And that’s fair. But just...look, just come back to the window and hear me out. You don’t even have to talk, just look at me and listen. And after I’m done, if you still feel like this you can push me out of the tree. That’s totally within your rights.”

Aziraphale scowled. If Crowley was serious, and he sometimes could be, he really would be in that tree forever. Which meant he would be there when Gabriel got home. Which would make salvaging anything impossible. Plus. Aziraphale rather liked the idea of pushing him out of the tree.

Aziraphale got back up and pushed the blinds open. “What?”

Crowley smiled. He climbed from the tree to the window ledge, sitting on the edge of it rather precariously. He tapped the glass. “Can you open the window?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’ll crawl your way in here. You are not welcome in my house, Crowley, and you are most certainly not welcome in my bedroom.”

Crowley held his hands up. “Yeah, yeah, that’s fair. That was my plan, fair point.” He leaned his head against the glass. “I’m sorry.”

“I believe you said that already.”

“I just...I wasn’t really thinking straight.”

“You rarely are.”

“Ya see? That’s my problem.” He shifted on the ledge, turning a bit so he could see Aziraphale better. “I really don’t mean to do this stuff on purpose. I wasn’t intentionally trying to cause trouble. I just...do dumb things. Can’t you forgive me for that?”

“I could have,” Aziraphale said. “If we had been alone. If you had kissed me in the drawing-room, or the garden, where no one could see us. I would have understood. I would have told you not to do it again and we could have moved on. I know what it’s like to love someone that you can’t be with. Believe me, I understand. But you kissed me in front of people. Not just any people. But Gabriel.”

Crowley nodded, hanging his head. “Yeah. I know. It’s not exactly my finest moment.”

“I understand your motives, Crowley. But I am very cross with you and I’m sorry, but I just can’t be around you anymore.”

“Wait, wait, wait, Aziraphale no!” Crowley got to his knees, almost falling off, stopping Aziraphale from closing the blinds. “I am more sorry for this than I’ve ever been for anything in my entire life. More sorry than I am for the fact that I exist! I can’t even begin to forgive myself for what I did to you. I knew he was a jealous, overprotective prick but I kissed you anyway. And he hurt you and locked you away and it’s my fault and I’m sorry. But look, you can open this window. Take your stuff and we can just go.”

Aziraphale huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “That’s just it, Crowley. You don’t even know why I’m mad at you.”

Crowley’s eyebrows furrowed and he sat down a bit, not too much, or else he’d fall. “If not that, why are you mad, then?”

Aziraphale took a step closer to the glass. He wanted to make sure Crowley heard him. “I care about Gabriel very deeply. And I honor the vows I made to him when we got married above all else in this world. You didn’t hurt me, Crowley. And neither did Gabriel. But you hurt him. And I cannot forgive that.”

Crowley’s confusion deepened. “How did I hurt him?”

Aziraphale sighed. “Have you ever been in a relationship before?” Crowley looked half-ashamed as he shook his head. “Then I’m sure it’s hard for you to understand. But try to use a bit of empathy. Imagine you’re Gabriel. No. Imagine you’re you. And we’re married.” Crowley’s face brightened up a bit. “Now imagine that someone else kisses me. Touches me. Flirts with me. How do you feel?”

Crowley shrugged. “That wouldn’t happen. You’d be happy with me.”

“Crowley! Imagine! It happens. How do you feel?”

Crowley looked down. “Not great.”

Aziraphale placed a hand against the glass, to hold himself up. He hated saying it out loud. “Now, imagine that you have a history...of someone you’re with...someone you’re engaged to...leaving you for someone else. Quite suddenly. In the middle of the night.” He could hear Crowley’s gulp. “The person you are with now is being kissed by someone else. How do you feel now?”

“...worse.” Crowley hung his head, forehead resting against the window. “Like it’ll happen again.” He sighed. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I...I didn’t know.”

“You shouldn’t have to know.”

It was quiet for a moment. Aziraphale so desperately wanted to open the window and hug him. Mainly because Aziraphale so desperately needed a hug. 

“I know this isn’t going to make much sense,” Crowley said, just as Aziraphale thought about closing the blinds. “I know that we’ve only known each other a few weeks but...you’re the third closest friend I have. The only two above you are Michael and Uriel and that’s cause I’ve known Michael since we were five.” He still wasn’t looking up, head still hung low. His forehead was actually smudging against the glass as he lost the fight against gravity. “It may come as a surprise to you but I’m not exactly great with relationships. Mainly cause I do dumb shit like this all the time. But…” he shook his head. “I really don’t want to lose you, Aziraphale. I like having you as a friend and I will do anything, anything, to be able to keep that.” Crowley finally lifted his head. “Please. Please don’t go away.”

There were tears in his eyes. And then on his face. He didn’t move, didn’t say anything else, just sat there and waited. Aziraphale sighed and cursed his bleeding heart as he unlatched the window and pulled it open. Crowley still didn’t move. He shook slightly, but made no other mention of being alive as Aziraphale reached out and wiped the tears off his cheeks. 

“I’m going to need time,” Aziraphale said. Crowley nodded slightly. “We can’t even begin to think about this while Gabriel’s in the space he is, okay?” Another nod. “I’m going to do everything I can but there’s no promise, okay?” More shaking now, more tears falling.

Aziraphale wiped the fresh tears away and then pulled his hands back. He hated to be so cruel but he had to be strong. “And there’s going to be some ground rules once we’re friends again.” He did not want to give Crowley false hope with the use of the word once but the poor guy needed something or else Aziraphale feared he would simply crumble and fall off the window. 

“You will stop being mean to Gabriel,” Aziraphale said. Crowley nodded enthusiastically. “And you won’t say mean things about him when we’re alone.” More nodding. “And I know that it’s in your nature but absolutely no more flirting.”

Crowley shook his head. “None,” he said. Well, sobbed.

“Just lay low for right now,” Aziraphale said. “Don’t leave Michael and Uriel’s unless you absolutely have to. And for the love of all that is holy in this world do not come near me and certainly do not let Gabriel see you.” Crowley nodded, jaw shaking as he forced his tears to stop. “I will call for you...when he comes around.”

Crowley sniffed and rubbed his palms over his eyes, blushing a bit. Aziraphale all too well understood that embarrassment after breaking down in front of someone. He knew, from the sincerity of Crowley’s confession, that he would follow his instructions. So he saw no harm in reaching out and giving Crowley’s hand a squeeze before closing the window.

Crowley took a moment to gather his strength, breathing deep breaths and calming his tears. Then he mouthed ‘thank you’ and turned around, climbing back into the tree. Aziraphale stayed at the window and watched him climb down, making sure he reached the bottom safely. He wanted to crawl back in bed and have a crisis. But there was no time for that. He had a plan to make.


	7. My week was worser than yours

**Day One:**

Crowley’s legs cramped. He wanted to shift so badly, to just stretch out a little, get his arm moved so his shoulder wasn’t pressed against the tip of a shoe. But there really was nowhere to go. The lid of the bench was already slightly ajar, pushing against his knee as Uriel sat on it, a slight ring of light filtering into the tight space.

He had been having a rather lovely evening. Uriel had stopped hitting him and Aziraphale was going to be his friend again. He was recounting all of this to Michael, who had left that afternoon for a bit of business, when there was a knock on the door. 

Crowley had followed her out to the hall, continuing to talk. She had opened the door, said, “Hello, Gabriel,” and Crowley had simply dove for the first cover he could find; a bench by the coat closet, filled with shoes. 

Uriel had come out at the mention of Gabriel’s name, had seen Crowley not quite fitting in the bench, and had sat on it, making Crowley bite his lip to suppress a groan of pain.

“Is Crowley here?” Gabriel asked. He had been invited in but he stayed by the door. 

“I’m afraid not,” Michael told him. 

“He’s off doing a portrait,” Uriel said. “He’s been gone a while. I’m sure he’ll be back soon, if you’d like to wait.”

Crowley rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to push up, throwing Uriel off. 

“No, thank you.” Crowley could hear Gabriel turn to walk away. He sighed in relief. Then Michael stopped him and Crowley bit back a groan.

“I know it probably doesn’t mean much,” Michael said. “But I’ve known Crowley practically my whole life. He really is just an idiot. I promise you he doesn’t ever mean anything malicious by his actions. He’s just...really, really dumb.”

“You are my friend, Michael,” Gabriel said. “Your opinion means a great deal.” And then he left.

Crowley sighed and pushed up. Uriel didn’t move. “Hey, let me out,” Crowley said, banging against the lid.

“Michael, did you hear something?” Uriel asked.

Michael hummed. “I don’t think I did.”

“Ha, ha, very funny. Let me out now.” Crowley pushed up with both arms and legs. 

“Come to think of it,” Michael sat down on the bench, digging the lid in deeper to Crowley’s knee, “I haven’t seen Crowley in a while.”

“Do hope nothing bad happened to him,” Uriel said.

“You’re very funny,” Crowley growled. “Now move!”

When he pushed up again the two women laughed and stood up. Uriel reached in and helped him climb out. He stretched and rubbed and his joints, glaring at them. 

“Maybe it’s best if you aren’t here when Gabriel leaves and comes back from work,” Michael suggested.

Crowley rubbed at his shoulder, feeling around the indent the shoe had made. “My thoughts exactly.”

-

Aziraphale cleared his throat and softly knocked on the door to Gabriel’s office. He got no reply. 

“Dinner’s ready,” Aziraphale announced. Gabriel had come home, late, and once more had gone straight to his office. Aziraphale knocked a little harder. “I know that you didn’t eat breakfast. You simply have to eat something or you’ll waste away.”

Still no response. Aziraphale tapped his fingers against the door, trying to will it open. Of course, there actually wasn’t a lock on the door, so Aziraphale could walk in at any point. But if he did that, Gabriel might not come back home at all, choosing to stay safe in his work office where Aziraphale wouldn’t get in. 

Aziraphale sighed and went back downstairs. 

“Any luck, sir?” Bentley asked.

Aziraphale shook his head and sat down. “I’m afraid not. Just me tonight.”

Bentley placed a plate of food before him. “Shall I bring Master Gabriel up a tray?”

Aziraphale deflated in his seat. He wanted to be mean. He wanted to say no, let Gabriel starve unless he decided to come down and talk. But he really wasn’t that vindictive. And besides, Gabriel did have a right to be mad. “Please do. And bring him extra, he’s probably hungry.”

Bentley nodded and left. Aziraphale sat at the table, finger taping against the wood as he thought. First thing he had to do was get Gabriel to talk to him. No. First step was getting Gabriel to look at him. So when Aziraphale went to bed that night, he set his alarm for early. 

**Day Two:**

Aziraphale did not like waking up to an alarm. It ruined his sleep. But a ruined night’s sleep was better than a ruined marriage so he groaned, sat up, rubbed his face, and got dressed. It was a bit of a cold morning, so he wrapped his arms around himself as he shuffled down to the kitchen.

“Good morning, sir,” Bentley greeted. “Would you care for some breakfast this early?”

Aziraphale shook his head. “No, thank you. I’m just waiting for Gabriel to get up.”

“Oh. Master Gabriel has already left for the day.”

“What?”

“Yes, he left a few minutes ago, in a bit of a hurry I would say.”

Aziraphale huffed. His guilt was slowly turning into anger the longer Gabriel avoided him. Gabriel must have heard Aziraphale’s alarm and raced out. No breakfast again, probably. Had he even changed his clothes?

“Thank you for telling me,” Aziraphale said. 

He stomped his way over to the drawing-room, grabbed the chair from his desk, and dragged it out to the hall. He set it down directly in front of the door, sat in it, crossed his arms, and waited. No reading, no writing, he couldn’t be distracted. He just waited.

-

Crowley actually did have a portraiture to do that day so he got up early, which was torture enough, and spent his day at the Tilly’s. They were a lovely family, sure. Their kids were well behaved and even the youngest one managed to sit still long enough for him to get a sketch out. The problem was, they had seven dogs and insisted they were all in the painting, too. 

Dogs were a lot harder to get to sit still than kids. They kept wandering about, barking, licking things. Crowley figured he would need seven baths, one for each dog that had slobbered all over him. 

It may have been the portraiture day from hell, but on the plus side, he was out of the house and Gabriel had no idea where he was. 

-

The door opened and Aziraphale sat up, keeping his arms crossed, putting on a face that said ‘I know you’re mad at me but you can’t keep avoiding me like this, we are adults and we have to talk please stop being so dumb’. At least, he hoped it said that. 

Gabriel walked in, motions slowing as he saw Aziraphale in the chair. He hadn’t changed his clothes. They were wrinkled all over. And his eyes were sunken, his hair a mess. Aziraphale couldn’t believe it. Gabriel had gone out looking like that to avoid seeing him. It made his insides churn and he lost his speaking face as he tried not to start crying. 

They stared at each other for a while, the door still open. Not breaking eye contact, Gabriel shut the door with his foot. The space in the hallway felt very, very small, and Aziraphale found breathing difficult again. 

Eventually Gabriel looked away, placing his briefcase on the ground and shrugging off his coat. He hung it up on the rack next to the door. At least he hadn’t tried to just go right to his office.

Aziraphale cleared his throat. “How was work?”

Gabriel didn’t look at him. “Fine.”

Gabriel picked his briefcase up and stepped around the chair. Aziraphale didn’t stop him. It was okay. This was a good first step. He had gotten him to look at and speak to him. Granted, it was one word, but still, that was one word more than yesterday. He called that a win.

**Day Three:**

Aziraphale’s sleep was light to say the least. Fitful at best. He woke easily when he heard the clattering about in the room next door. He sat up and scratched at his head. The clock told him it was much too early for any human to be awake. 

Groaning, Aziraphale shuffled his way to the dressing room. Gabriel was there, squinting in the low light of early morning, as he got dressed. Aziraphale leaned against the door frame, muscles already tired of holding him up, and sighed.

“You don’t have to get up so early to avoid me,” he mumbled.

“I’m not avoiding you,” Gabriel said, back facing him. Aziraphale scoffed. “I was. But I’m not anymore.” He paused. “I just...wasn’t sleeping anyway.”

Aziraphale closed his eyes. “Yeah. Me either.”

He listened to Gabriel as he shuffled fabric around and made himself presentable. When he opened his eyes again, he couldn’t help but smile. Gabriel’s bed head was one of the reasons that Aziraphale hated not waking up early. It was charming. Cute. But it was not something to take to work.

Aziraphale picked up the soft brush from his vanity and crossed the room. “May I?”

Gabriel made eye contact with him in the mirror, low light masking the color of his irises. He didn’t say anything, just looked back down at this cuffs as he buttoned them. Aziraphale reached up, pulling the brush over Gabriel’s hair, smoothing it down until it looked presentable.

“There,” he said, stepping back and admiring his work. 

“Thank you,” Gabriel said. He shrugged his jacket on and glanced at Aziraphale as he buttoned it up. “There’s a meeting I have to go to after work. It’ll probably run late. So, uh, no need to bring out the chair.” He gave Aziraphale a half smile. 

Aziraphale looked down, blushing a bit. “Don’t work yourself too hard.”

Gabriel nodded. “Get some more sleep, okay?” 

Aziraphale didn’t.

-

Crowley was a nervous wreck. It was only two and a half days since his talk with Aziraphale. He knew, objectively, that it shouldn’t be this early before he heard from him. But he still felt awful with every second that passed.

“Look, I want to help you, Crowley.” Uriel walked into his room, where he was laying on the bed, head hanging off the edge. “But,” she closed the door behind her, “you have to promise: not a word of this to Michael.”

Crowley squinted at her, she looked a bit red with all the blood flowing to his brain. “I don’t think Michael would believe you’d want to help me even if I told her.”

Uriel rolled her eyes and sat on the bed, a box sitting on her lap. “I’m serious. She can’t know.”

Crowley sat up, his curiosity overriding his despair. He looked down at the box. “Please tell me it’s a box full of toys,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

“You are so gross.” 

Uriel shoved the box at him. Crowley adjusted, holding it on his knees as he peeked in. “Books?”

“Books I know you like.”

Crowley gasped and pulled one out. He turned a wide, devilish smile to Uriel. “You read the Dangerous Dan books?”

Uriel shushed him. “Keep your voice down. Michael can’t know.”

Crowley laughed. “I didn’t know you had it in you!”

“If you won’t be quiet about it.” Uriel reached for the box but Crowley twisted to the side, keeping it out of reach.

“No, no, no, I wanna borrow ‘em.” He chuckled again. “So, uh, what’s your favorite? One with the camel?”

“..Yeah. How’d you know?”

Crowley shrugged. “Lucky guess.” He flipped one of the books open, smiling over the words.

“I’m letting you borrow these to keep you busy. You read them in here and you do not let Michael know about them. Okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Your secret’s safe with me.”

-

Aziraphale knew someone had stepped into the room but he was too busy trying to hold on to the remnants of sleep to pay attention.

“Why are you down here?” Gabriel asked.

Aziraphale let the sleep go, turning over on the couch so he could look up at Gabriel. “I’m not letting you sleep in your office again. You have to work so you take the bed.”

Gabriel sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose, eyes closed. “Just...get up.”

Aziraphale obeyed, tossing the blanket off and getting to his feet. Gabriel wordlessly walked upstairs and Aziraphale followed. 

“Get in bed, I’ll be there in a minute,” Gabriel said, heading for the dressing room. 

Aziraphale climbed in bed, burrowing under the covers. He kept his focus awake, listening for Gabriel’s movements. He didn’t care about privacy; if he heard Gabriel go into his office he was going in after him.Thankfully, Gabriel didn’t got to his office. 

The door squeaked as Gabriel closed it, and then the bed behind Aziraphale dipped down. Aziraphale curled himself up tight on his side. He wanted nothing more than to turn over and cuddle up to Gabriel, to know that everything was okay. But everything wasn’t okay. It was getting better, however. And he let that thought lull him to sleep.

**Day Four:**

It was like reading his own life. Crowley was the prince of course. Aziraphale was Dan. Well, not really, in the sense that he didn’t really do a lot of crazy dangerous things. But it made sense in the realm of their relationship. Or lack thereof.

The prince never was named. It was a funny thing, that lead to many mishaps and confusions, but it was also symbolic. See, the thing was, Dan and the prince were in love. It was clear to everyone, including them. The prince would do anything for Dan. Did do anything for Dan. But Dan was afraid. He worried that his life was too dangerous, that if he accepted and admitted his love, then the prince would get hurt. They couldn’t be together because of his life, just as Crowley and Aziraphale couldn’t be together because of his marriage. 

The books kept him busy, but they did nothing to ease his pain.

-

Gabriel was eating breakfast back to normal, half his food untouched, newspaper spread wide before him. 

“Good morning,” Aziraphale whispered, sitting down. Bentley was nowhere to be seen, which was fine, as Aziraphale wasn’t hungry. 

“Good morning,” Gabriel replied. 

“How did you sleep?”

“Fine.”

Aziraphale nodded. He watched Gabriel read the newspaper. He listened to the clock tick in the corner. 

“Do you have any plans tomorrow?” he asked. 

Gabriel put the newspaper down. “I could.”

Aziraphale shook his head. “I want to talk.”

Gabriel looked down at the table. Aziraphale reached out, placing his hand on Gabriel’s arm, waiting to see if he would move away. He didn’t.

“Please,” Aziraphale said. “I don’t want to wait months for us to get back to normal.” And he didn’t want to wait months to see Crowley again.

“Very well,” Gabriel said. He pulled his arm away and continued reading the paper.

**Day Five:**

“Someone come stop me from doing something dumb!” Crowley called out as he rounded the corner from the stairs and raced for the front door.

Uriel popped her head out from the library. “What are you doing?”

Crowley threw the door open and glanced at her. “I’m going over to Aziraphale’s.”

“Crowley, no!”

Crowley ran out the door, Uriel hot on his heels. He managed to get to the end of the walkway, just by the road, before Uriel tackled him, knocking them both to the ground. They rolled about for a bit, Crowley struggling to get out from under her, Uriel trying to get a grab on his arms to hold him down. They settled with Uriel straddling his legs and pinning his wrists to the ground by his head.

“Let me go,” Crowley said. “I have to see him!”

“You’re just going to make it worse!”

“I know but I have to!”

Uriel pushed him further into the ground. “You just have to be patient.”

“Do you know me!?”

A dog barked. The two looked to the side, spying a little brown dog looking at them, tail wagging. Their eyes traveled up, to the woman who was holding the dog’s leash. She looked at them with a raised eyebrow.

“Uh, we, dropped something,” Crowley said, smiling at her.

The woman shook her head at them and walked her dog around them. Uriel took the moment to grab Crowley’s ear, tugging on it.

“Ow, ow, ow,” Crowley said, letting Uriel drag him to his feet and back into the house. She didn’t let go until they were inside and the door was locked.

“You’re staying here,” Uriel said. Crowley rubbed at his ear. “I’m not having you murdered while you’re our guest, understand?”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “He’s not gonna murder me, sheesh.”

“Just a few more days, okay? If he’s not here by the start of next week, then you can go be an idiot.”

Crowley frowned. “Fine. But I’m holding you to that.”

-

They sat on opposite couches. Aziraphale rubbed his hands over his knees, swallowing hard. He kept licking his lips, feeling them go dry and chapped at every passing moment. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, just that it was a lot.

“Aziraphale,” Gabriel said, breaking the silence. “I figured that when you said you wanted to talk you actually had a topic of conversation in mind.”

Aziraphale nodded. “Yes. Sorry. I’m just...have you ever had a conversation with someone, and you...you just knew that your entire future rested on it?”

Gabriel’s face softened. “I think you’re putting too much weight on this conversation.”

Aziraphale chuckled. He thought he wasn’t putting enough weight on it. “I just wanted to start by apologizing again for what happened at the dinner.”

Gabriel’s eyes closed and he took a deep breath. “It’s fine.”

Aziraphale’s leg bounced, the only thing he could do to stop himself from exploding with how nervous he was. “I just...I need you to know, Gabriel, that I would never do that.”

Gabriel looked at him, eyes hard to read, somewhere between hurt and angry. “I know he tried to kiss you that first day.”

Aziraphale felt like something had punched him in the gut. He literally couldn’t breath. “What?”

“Bentley may listen to you more but he still talks to me.” Aziraphale let out a sob. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I...I...I didn’t want you to do anything to him.” Aziraphale brought a hand up to this face, biting on the nails. A nervous habit he had ditched about five years ago. 

“Because you like him.”

“Because he was nice to me!”

They fell back into silence, Aziraphale fidgeting and biting and shaking, Gabriel stiff and unmoving. 

Time passed.

More time passed.

“Well, good talk.” Gabriel got up. 

Aziraphale could feel his breakfast making a hurried comeback. “Wait.” His voice was weak and broken. Gabriel remained standing, but he didn’t move. “I don’t get the opportunity to have many friends.” He knew it was a low blow. He didn’t want to use it as an argument, because his lack of friends had absolutely nothing to do with Gabriel. It wasn’t fair. But it was all he had.

Gabriel sat back down.

“I know that Crowley likes me.” He hung his head, unable to meet Gabriel’s gaze. “But he promised me that he wasn’t going to be like that anymore. And I...I know I probably shouldn’t, but I trust him.”

“You’ve spoken to him.”

“Yes.”

“You said you wouldn’t see him again.”

“He’s very persistent.”

More silence. More time.

Aziraphale sighed and risked looking up. Gabriel was staring at him. He looked...completely neutral. As if he had never felt an emotion in his entire life. It was wrong. 

“I have lied to you more in the last month than I have the entire time we’ve been married,” Aziraphale admitted. “It’s not right and I’m sorry. I do like Crowley.” There was a twitch of emotion on Gabriel’s face. He swallowed hard. “But I would never even think about leaving you. You have to know that, on some level.”

Gabriel looked away. “If you wanted to-”

“No!” Aziraphale couldn’t take it anymore. He fell to his knees, shuffling over to Gabriel. With shaking hands he grabbed Gabriel’s wrist and placed a kiss to the back of his hand. “I will never leave you. And I’m not letting you leave me. Our marriage is the thing I care most about in this world. I value it above everything else. Everything.”

Gabriel looked down at him. Confused. “You would give up running away and being happy with him to stay here and be miserable with me.”

“Oh I could never be happy with him.” Aziraphale kept hold of Gabriel’s hand and sat next to him. “How could I ever be happy knowing that I let you go?” Aziraphale brought one hand up, running it through Gabriel’s hair.

“But you don’t love me.”

The look in Gabriel’s eyes killed him. He let go of Gabriel’s hand and placed both palms on his cheeks. “But I like you.”

Gabriel’s lip quivered for a moment before his jaw went rigid, clenching his teeth together. 

“You are my best friend, Gabriel,” Aziraphale said. “Why would I ever put that at risk?”

A single tear slipped out of Gabriel’s left eye. Aziraphale leaned in and kissed it away. 

“Can we be good again?” Aziraphale asked. Gabriel nodded, pressing their foreheads together. “Good.”

**Day Six:**

Gabriel was still in bed when Aziraphale woke up. He smiled and rolled over, reaching out to touch Gabriel’s cheek. He blinked awake.

“What time is it?” Gabriel asked. 

Aziraphale chuckled. Gabriel was known for his strong internal clock. Even on days he didn’t work he was up at six. “It’s a little after nine.”

Gabriel made a face and rolled onto his back. “Damn.”

“You needed your rest.” Aziraphale shuffled closer, snuggling up to Gabriel’s arm. “We both did.” He placed a kiss to Gabriel’s shoulder. “It’s a good day to be lazy.”

Gabriel smiled, lifted his arm up so Aziraphale could crowd in. “You’re going to have to teach me about this being lazy stuff. Already I’m thinking about all the work I should be doing.”

Aziraphale shrugged. “You’ll get used to it. Just have to clear your mind. Deep breaths. Let your muscles relax.”

Gabriel did take some deep breaths. But clearly he didn’t clear his mind. “Aziraphale. How many friends do you have?”

“Well, there’s you and Bentley. And I suppose I would consider Michael and Uriel friends, but only in private, you know.”

Gabriel groaned. “And this...Crowley...he’s a good friend?”

Aziraphale blinked. He really hadn’t expected Gabriel to bring it up. He thought he’d wait two or three more days before cracking open that subject. “When he’s not being a major idiot, yes.”

“Just...don’t not see him because of me, okay?”

Aziraphale furrowed his eyebrows and propped himself up on his elbow. He had to check to make sure that Gabriel hadn’t been replaced by some kind of alien. “What?”

“If you don’t want to see him again, that’s fine. I just...I don’t ever want to be the reason you don’t have a friend.”

Aziraphale felt a buzzing energy in his chest. He felt light and happy. “Gabriel…” he bit back the words he couldn't say, could never admit. So instead he leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips. “You really don’t mind? If we’re friends? You aren’t worried.”

“I will never not be worried.” Aziraphale’s joy faded a bit. “But...I want you to be happy. And if having him as a friend makes you happy...then I’ll just have to make sure I stalk him better.”

Aziraphale laughed and settled back down. “I’ll get his schedule for you.”

-

Crowley had gone to the garden. Because there wasn’t a way to get there without passing Aziraphale’s house. Because if he happened to see Aziraphale in his back yard it wasn’t really like he was searching him out. 

He hadn’t seen him. 

He sighed, letting out a deep breath as he steadied his hand and continued painting. Mid morning light was weird, but he loved it. Gave a sort of energy to the flowers and their colors. 

“Crowley, Crowley, Crowley.”

Crowley hung his head, his hand hanging dead in the air above the painting. “Are you just physically incapable of saying my name once? Or do you just get joy out of being annoying.”

Hastur laughed. “Annoying you is one of the greater joys in life. Especially since it’s so easy.”

Crowley rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to his painting. He pressed the brush to the canvas, only to have the painting jerked up, leaving a long red streak across half of it. 

“Tell me someone isn’t paying you for this,” Hastur said, looking it over.

“Your husband, actually,” Crowley said. “Yeah he says your paintings are so shit he has to go to me to get anything half-way decent.”

There was a terrible ripping sound that reverberated off Crowley's spine as Hastur tore the canvas in half. “Oops.” He dropped the two halves on the floor and was sure to step on them, digging them into the soft soil, as he left.

Crowley sat there, unable to move for many reasons. He understood the irony of it. There he had been, talking big talk about hurting anyone who hurt Aziraphale. Yet he just sat there and did nothing as Hastur ruined his work. He knew why. Aziraphale didn’t deserve to be unhappy. Crowley did.

He packed up his stuff and went back to Michael and Uriel’s. Guess it was just another day spent moping.

“There you are!” Uriel said, grabbing his arm as soon as he was through the door.

“Here I am,” Crowley said, letting her drag him into the drawing room. 

She picked up a letter and handed it to him. He studied it. His name looked quite lovely in that hand writing. He turned the envelope over in his hand, no return name. He tried not to get his hopes up as he opened it.

“Yes!” He cried out, reading over the first half of the letter. “No!” as he got to the end.

“What?” Uriel asked. “What, what?”

“He wants to see me!” Extreme joy turned to intense frustration. “Tomorrow.”

“Just focus on the positive,” Uriel said. “He wants to see you.”

Crowley nodded. His body bounced on its own, legs begging him to walk. “You may have to sit on me.”

“I’m okay with that.”


	8. Little talks

Crowley could not stop smiling. He hadn’t slept all night. Might had have something to do with the whole being tied to the bed so he wouldn’t try and slip out in the middle of the night. But there was also the unnerving buzz of getting to see Aziraphale again. He was up with the sun, clawing his way out of the rope, out the door without even a thought of breakfast. Only Aziraphale on his mind.

Gabriel opened the door.

Crowley’s face fell. His heart, once beating erratically with joy, seemed to stop dead in his chest. He stuttered. Normally when he stuttered he just had too many things he wanted to say. This time, his mind was just completely blank. 

“Crowley,” Gabriel said, looking him up and down. Fuck. He hadn’t even gotten dressed, just ran over in his pajamas. Gabriel stepped to the side. “Do come in.”

Crowley didn’t know a lot of things but he knew he most definitely should not go in. But Gabriel’s stare gave him no room for argument. He gulped and entered the house.

A strong hand landed on Crowley’s shoulder, steering him into the drawing-room. The doors closed behind them.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Gabriel said, gesturing to one of the couches. He sat down on the other, crossing his legs. 

Crowley bit his lip. He really should not be here. He knew that. Just because Aziraphale wanted to talk to him did not mean that Gabriel wasn’t still going to try and kill him. Why hadn’t he just waited until the guy had gone to work? He sat down, still as could be. Any movement might be his last.

Gabriel didn’t talk. Crowley glanced around the room, not wanting to look at him. His palms grew sweaty and he rubbed them on his pants. “So, uh, where’s Aziraphale.”

“He’s still asleep.”

Crowley nodded. He tried really, really hard not to think about Aziraphale asleep. Cuddled up in bed. Soft face and soft breath. Peaceful and cozy. Maybe with Crowley curled up around him. He was really bad at not thinking.

Gabriel took a deep breath and Crowley risked a glance at him. His arms were resting on the back of the couch, spread wide, his chest pushing out. He looked completely at ease, but also in control of the room. Certainly intimidating.

“Look, if you’re going to kill me could you just get it over with?”

“I’m not going to kill you, Crowley.”

“Punch me then. Stab me. Yell or whatever. Just get it over with so I can move on with my life. Please!”

Gabriel shifted, sinking further into the couch. “Aziraphale tells me that you promised him there would be no more flirting.”

“I, uh, guess you don’t believe that, huh?”

“I don’t trust you Crowley.”

“Okay, yeah, yeah, that’s fair. I’m not a very trustworthy person.” That certainly didn’t help his efforts much. “But Aziraphale has made it very clear that there is and never will be anything between us. And you trust him, don’t you?”

“No.”

Oh. Well. That explained...a lot. Crowley furrowed his eyebrows. “You know, you really can’t have a good relationship without trust.” Gabriel glared at him. “Says the man who has no room to give you relationship advice.”

“I trust that Aziraphale is telling me the truth when he says he does not want to do anything. But I do not trust that he wouldn’t.”

“That...makes a little bit of sense. I suppose.”

“And I know he would do something with you.”

Crowley could feel his hope slipping away. But he couldn’t lose it. He wouldn’t. And how dare Gabriel try to keep it from him. Keep Aziraphale from him. He clenched his hands together. He wasn't going down without a fight.

“Just because you have weird trust issues does not mean you can keep Aziraphale from having friends!” He stood up. “I don’t care that some guy cheated on you, okay? Aziraphale is his own person and you can’t just control his life!”

“He told you about that?”

Okay, not exactly the response Crowley was expecting. “He...alluded to it, yeah.” Crowley sighed, moment of anger edging away. “Look, I am sorry, okay? That’s a shitty thing to go through. But Aziraphale is Aziraphale. And for some, strange reason, he’s really devoted to you. So you don’t have to worry about it.”

Gabriel looked to the side, ever soft smile on his face. His head shook softly. Crowley felt a little awkward standing, especially in his pajamas, so he sat back down slowly, fighting the flush he could feel in his face. He cleared his throat, ticked his tongue to break the silence.

“I’m not stopping Aziraphale from having you as a friend.” Gabriel looked back at Crowley, eyes a little bit glossy, but otherwise his face neutral. “I’m just not convinced that you’re going to be a good friend. I care deeply about Aziraphale. You will not hurt him.”

“Exactly! See, you get it!”

“No. You misunderstand.” Gabriel uncrossed his legs and leaned forward.”You will not hurt him.” There was a threat behind the bite of his words. 

Crowley mirrored his lean, trying not to let the fear show. Because that was the look Michael must have seen. He did not like it.

“You’re right. I won’t.”

They stared each other down. Crowley didn’t want to be the first one to move away, to break the contact and show weakness. But he was never very good at being still.

“Besides,” he said, sitting back. “You should be glad Aziraphale has a friend like me!”

“Should I?” Still leaning forward.

“Yeah! I mean, who else is gonna be friends with him in public, huh? With me here, he’ll never have that bored, pained look at all that shit you guys go to. I can tag along with Michael and Uriel and keep him company.” Gabriel squinted at him. “No kissing or flirting of course.”

Gabriel finally leaned back. He studied Crowley with an intense gaze. Crowley wondered if he should keep going. He had a million reasons why he’d be a good friend to Aziraphale. 

“You’d take him out?” Gabriel asked.

“...like, on a date?” Gabriel frowned. Crowley put his hands up in defense. “Hey, hey that was a very open question!”

“Aziraphale doesn’t go anywhere. He...we both don’t want him out on his own.”

Crowley scoffed. “People ignore him sure, but I doubt they’d do anything.”

“They have in the past.”

Crowley’s hands were in fists again. “I want names! You tell me exactly who the fuck I have to beat up!”

Gabriel smiled. “Good. I want you to take him out, okay? He likes to go on walks. Take him to that garden he loves. I’m never around enough to take him out, so just get him out of the house for me. Can you do that?”

Crowley’s anger dissipated. Gabriel was offering him literally everything he wanted. And he wanted to know if he could do that? Hell yeah he could do that!

Crowley nodded, too afraid he would squeak with joy if he spoke. The door slid open. Both of them looked towards it, where Aziraphale was shuffling in, rubbing his eyes. 

“Gabriel? Crowley? What are you doing here?”

“I, you, well, the letter!” Crowley said. He knew he was blushing. There was no stopping it. Not when Aziraphale was looking like that. His hair was all messed up on the top of his head. His face was scrunched up, eyes squinting as he woke them up. His pajamas looked one size too big, hanging off his body so comfortably. 

Aziraphale shuffled over, feet never leaving the ground. He sat down next to Gabriel and Crowley ached. He wanted to be the one sitting next to him, placing his hand on his thigh, pressing tight to his side.

“Is everything okay? I heard yelling.”

“Crowley just get a little over excited.” Gabriel moved to place his arm around Aziraphale’s shoulders. Crowley gulped. “But we’ve come to an agreement. Haven’t we?”

Crowley nodded. “Uh, uh, yeah. Yeah it’s all...hunky dory.”

Aziraphale frowned at him. “Hunky dory?” He laughed and patted Gabriel’s arm. “You’re going to be late for work.”

Gabriel nodded. The two of them stood up. Crowley looked away as Gabriel placed a hand on the back of Aziraphale’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss. Aziraphale was smiling at him when they pulled apart. It made Crowley sick.

“Have a good day,” Gabriel said.

“You, too.”

Gabriel gave Crowley a hard look before he left. 

“I hope he wasn’t too rough,” Aziraphale said, sitting back down. Crowley fought the urge to jump over to him. 

“He was just...ya know...him. But I don’t wanna talk about that!” He jumped to his feet, too excited to sit still. “Wanna go for a walk?”

Aziraphale chuckled. “Well, I don’t know about you. But I need to get dressed first.”

“Oh. Right. No yeah, yeah. Uh...meet you out back in a few minutes?”

-

They walked down to the garden. It was still pretty early, so not a lot of people were around. But any that were got a harsh glare from Crowley, even if they hadn’t looked at them. It did not escape Aziraphale’s notice. He stayed an appropriate distance from him, but he wondered what it would feel like to hold that hand. Maybe wrap around that arm. He shook the thoughts from his head. 

“Oh, it’s beautiful.” Aziraphale smiled and took in a deep breath, the fragrance of flowers filling his nose. “I’ve never seen it this early in the morning.”

“Yeah. It’s good to study things at different times in the day. The position of the sun can really change the view and color and stuff.”

Aziraphale grabbed his arm, one hand tight around his bicep. “You haven’t shown me any of your work yet! How is it going? I want to see!”

Crowley smiled at him. “Uh-uh. It’s a surprise.”

Aziraphale gave him a look and stepped further into the garden. He looked around, rubbing his hands over leaves and flowers. He found the bush of blue bell flowers that Crowley had gotten him his gift from. His face fell a bit. The flower had mostly wilted by now. It was a nice little gift while it lasted. He rubbed a petal between his fingers. 

“They’re so soft,” he said. “And so bright.”

“Like you.”

Aziraphale looked over and Crowley’s face was scrunched up, nodding. 

“Yeah, yep, I know. Sorry. Slipped out.” 

Aziraphale sighed. He couldn’t help but smile. He liked how Crowley liked him. It wasn’t that Gabriel didn’t compliment him, but when he did it wasn’t often. And it didn’t come easy. Crowley, however, would probably sing his praises all day long. It was vain of him, but he liked it. 

“It’s okay. It’ll take a while to adjust, I know.” He gave Crowley an understanding nod. 

Aziraphale turned to move on but his foot crunched on something. He scooped down and picked up half of a canvas. It was a painting of the garden, a red smudge running over it. He looked around and found the other half not too far away. “Are these yours?”

Crowley had his hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched, face looking down. “It uh...yeah.”

Aziraphale studied it. He had a theory. Crowley had somehow messed it up, had gotten that red streak across the canvas, and had ripped it up in frustration. 

“I think it looks good,” he said, putting the two pieces together. 

Crowley scoffed. “Don’t be nice.”

“Why did you tear it?”

Crowley did a very good job of hiding it, but his face went through the motions of surprise, to panic, to quick thinking. “It was just shit I guess.” He shrugged. “No need to keep it.”

Aziraphale stepped closer to him. “Crowley, what happened?”

“Not important.” Crowley walked away. But Aziraphale wasn’t going to let him get away with that. 

“We’re friends now. You can tell me what happened.” He wiped the dirt off the canvas, folded the pieces together, and stuffed them in his pocket.

“Nothing happened.”

“Crowley.”

“What do you want to know Aziraphale? You wanna hear about the asshole that tore it up and stepped on it? Wanna know how I just sat there and let it happen? Is that what you want to know?”

“Crowley, wait.” Aziraphale grabbed his arm, pulling him to a halt. 

Crowley rolled his head back and looked at him. “What?”

Aziraphale rubbed his arm gently. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. But I want you to know that I’m here for you if you do. You can talk to me about anything.”

Crowley looked into his eyes and groaned. “It just...it happens, okay?” He shrugged. “Hastur’s just a bully, you know?”

“He can’t get away with this.”

Crowley shrugged again looking away. “Can we just, forget it? I want you to see the roses before it gets too sunny.”

Aziraphale sighed and nodded, letting Crowley lead him deeper into the garden. He had gotten a name out him, at least. That was a good start. Crowley may not do anything about it, but no one was going to get away with hurting his friend like that.


	9. The art of seduction

Crowley had gone over every day of the week. He spent the weekend away, no need to spend time with Gabriel, he only cared about Aziraphale. Plus, it was probably for the best, as he still had work to do. (Michael had told him he couldn’t just stay at their house to flirt with Aziraphale unless he was going to pay rent).

The problem was that Aziraphale didn’t usually wake up until later. But Crowley couldn’t be bothered to wait around. Especially not inside somewhere. As soon as he was up and dressed he was over to Aziraphale’s. He just hung around out front until he saw Aziraphale in one of the downstairs windows. 

Aziraphale saw him, smiled, shook his head, and met him at the door. 

“Mornin’ Aziraphale,” Crowley said, smiling. It was impossible to not smile around Aziraphale. 

“Come in,” Aziraphale said, opening the door for him. “Would you care to have breakfast with me out in the garden?”

“Love to!”

Bentley brought them out some eggs and toast, with enough tea they could need. Crowley chatted away, he could never seem to eat when he was with Aziraphale. Every time he looked at him his inside just went all squishy and food wasn’t very appetizing. So while Aziraphale ate, Crowley rambled on about whichever Dangerous Dan book he was on. 

“And it’s just annoying! They were so close! You know? I mean, he had him! He was right there!”

Aziraphale chuckled and reached out to touch his arm. Aziraphale’s touch always managed to calm him. “Relax, dear.” Oh yeah. Aziraphale had started calling him dear. He certainly didn’t dream about that at night. “It’s just a book.”

“But it feels so real!” Crowley settled back in his chair. It was a cloudy day, keeping the air cool. “I mean, you’ve read them! They’re just so...gah! I mean they’re in love! It’s really dumb!”

Aziraphale laughed. He sipped at his tea and set it down, his plate empty. He looked at Crowley’s. “You didn’t eat a bite.”

“Eh. I’m not hungry.”

“You’re never hungry.” Aziraphale squinted at him. “You need to eat. If you don’t you’ll never have enough energy to get through the day.”

Crowley smirked. “You give me all the energy I need.”

Aziraphale gave him a look. 

“What? That wasn’t flirting!”

Aziraphale laughed and then his face sobered a bit, staring at Crowley with a strange intensity in his eyes. 

“What?”

“Could you...we’re friends, right?”

“We better be.”

“Could you teach me something?”

Crowley leaned back in his chair, resting his arm over the back and smirking at Aziraphale. “You want me to teach you how to paint, huh? Don’t worry, I’ll be more than happy to model for ya.” Another look. “Okay, yeah, point for you that was flirting.”

“I was rather hoping you could show me how you do...well, that.”

“You want to know how to flirt?” Crowley thought Aziraphale did a mighty fine job of it. Maybe he really was just innocent and had no idea the effect he had on others.

“Well, more than that.” Aziraphale picked up his cup, even though it was empty. He studied it, as if wondering where all the tea had gone. “You’ve been known to...seduce people.”

“You want me to teach you the art of seduction?” 

“Yes.”

Crowley smirked again, feeling it was better to be cool and collected. “Who you tryin’ to seduce huh? Perhaps a devilishly handsome friend who lives down the street and has furiously fashionable red hair?”

Aziraphale laughed at him. “You just keep wishing on that, dear.”

“Oh, I will. But, seriously, who do you need to seduce? I thought you were terribly devoted to the st-to Gabriel?”

“I am. He’s the one I need to seduce.”

Okay. Crowley had to have heard that wrong. He scratched his ear, checking for any wax. “I’m sorry. Come again?”

“I need your help seducing Gabriel.”

“Uh...why? Can’t you just be like, hey we’re married let’s go? Do you even...do you even want to have sex with him?”

“Of course I do!” Well, that ruined one of his plans of attack. (Yeah, Crowley may have agreed to play along for now but not for one second was he actually going to give up on trying to get Aziraphale to be with him). “I just...have some trouble.”

“He’s bad at it? You’re bad at it? Is it just bad overall? Cause you know I can show you some pointers on that-”

“I wouldn’t know.” Aziraphale looked down at his empty cup. His face was almost as red as Crowley’s hair. “I...that is to say...we haven’t exactly…” Crowley gasped. “Yes. I know.”

The light at the end of the tunnel. The silver lining! He scrambled out of his chair, pointing at Aziraphale. “You’re not really married!”

“Keep your voice down,” Aziraphale hissed. He had that fury in his eyes that Crowley didn’t like. “We are married. It’s just that...well, it’s just...We just haven’t consummated it.”

“Hey. I’m just going by the laws of the land. No sex, not really married.” Crowley got on his knee, right by Aziraphale’s chair, grabbing his hand. “Will you marry me?”

Aziraphale pressed two fingers to Crowley’s temple and gently shoved him away. “Really, dear. You must get a hold of yourself.”

Crowley stood up and dusted himself off, giving Aziraphale a disappointed look. “I can’t believe you’re really going to look me in the eyes and ask me to help you get in your husband’s pants.”

“I know.” Aziraphale sighed. “It’s terribly mean of me. I’m sorry. I just know that you’re an expert. After all, you did a very good number on me. So I thought I’d ask.”

Crowley groaned. He did not want to help Aziraphale have sex with Gabriel. That really defeated the entire purpose. Of his existence. But Aziraphale looked so...saddened. Saddened that Crowley wasn’t helping him. Maybe even more saddened that he wasn’t getting any. (Which Crowley thought was a very good reason to be sad). He growled and scratched the back of his neck. “Fine.”

Aziraphale hopped up in his seat, face brighter than the sun. “Oh really? Crowley thank you! Thank you! You have no idea how much this means to me!”

“I’m good not knowing, thanks.”

“So,” Aziraphale settled back down on his seat, looking at Crowley with rapt attention. He looked like he ought to have a notebook with him. “How does it work?”

“There are multiple ways to seduce, but I’ll teach you my best method. Fool proof. Only one person has been able to resist it.” He gave Aziraphale a wink. 

“Oh? I must be something special, then.”

“Must be.” Crowley took a moment to just stare at Aziraphale. So cute. So soft. So everything he ever wanted in life. And here he was, about to teach him how to get someone else in bed. He was either an idiot, or in love. 

Alright. He was both.

“It’s a two step system.” He turned away, walking around to the bushes in the garden. He ran fingers over leaves, seeming very interested in them. “First, I’m not interested in you. I’m exploring the surroundings. This flower is the most appealing thing in this room. Sure, I may look at you every now and then,” at this he glanced back at Aziraphale, who was nodding his head, “but you’re really just a side thought.”

“I see. So ignore him without ignoring him?”

“Exactly. And another important aspect of part one. You don’t do the talking. I’m doing it now because I’m teaching but in reality, you want them to be talking. Ask them questions about things they’re interested in, get them chattering. Respond when prompted, but keep it short and sweet. And always turn the conversation back to them.”

“I see. Ignore him. Keep him talking. Got it. What’s step two?”

Crowley smiled and turned suddenly. He fell on the arm of the chair, sitting one leg up on it as he leaned in towards Aziraphale, who gulped and leaned away.

“Now you’re all I’m interested in. Rest of the world? It doesn’t exist. Just you and me and the ever closing space between us.” He leaned in, closing said distance. “I’m hanging off your every word. I’m checking your face for the subtle signs of attraction; wide eyes, heavy breath, fast heart. I touch you, gently.” He placed a finger to the side of Aziraphale’s neck, watching him shiver. “Last chance. If you pull away it’s done. If you don’t, well...nine times out of ten, I’m in. I lean closer still, we’re going to kiss.” 

Crowley leaned in, almost forgetting himself for a moment. Then he blinked back to his senses. If Aziraphale had gone crazy over a kiss on the hand what would he do to one on the lips. (Crowley really did briefly consider just going for it, it would be worth it. But he wasn’t that dumb).

Crowley pulled back, not missing the way Aziraphale’s lips were just slightly pouted out, a shake in his jaw as Crowley stood up. He shrugged. “And that’s how it’s done.”

Aziraphale cleared his throat. “I...you do that very well.” His cheeks were pink, the single most adorable color on him. “Thank you.”

Crowley sat down on his chair. Smirking again because he liked the confidence it gave him. “You wanna give it a go? Get some practice in?”

“Ah, n-no thank you. I’m sure I’ll be alright.”

Crowley shrugged. “Up to you. I’m here if you change your mind.” He settled back down as Bentley came out to take their plates and refill Aziraphale’s cup. “Let me ask you something, if you don’t mind.”

Aziraphale hummed and sniffed his tea. “Go ahead.” He took a sip.

“Why, exactly, haven’t you had sex yet?”

Aziraphale thought about it for a moment, looking around the garden as he sipped at his tea. “I suppose, well, I think he’s just afraid.”

“Gabriel?” Aziraphale nodded. “Afraid of what? I mean, clearly it’s not like you’re going to leave him.” (Yet, he hopped). “Is he really that messed up from getting cheated on?”

“It’s not that. I think...I think he’s afraid of me.”

Crowley licked his lips. Oh the thoughts he thought. “Real maniac in bed huh? A good ol’ fashioned animal? Like it rough?”

Aziraphale’s face blushed deeper. “N-no! I, shut up!” Crowley laughed. He really was adorable. “I just think he’s afraid of my past is all.”

Crowley squinted at him. “Were you actually a prostitute?”

“No!”

“I”m just asking! What else is there for him to be afraid of?”

Aziraphale looked away. “It’s probably best you don’t know. I just...had an unfortunate incident in the past is all. Nothing to worry about. And I keep telling the same to Gabriel, but he won’t believe me. I’m just hoping that this will help him to see that.”

Crowley nodded. “No, yeah, I get it. Well, if you ever did want me to know, I’m here. And I’m totally willing to kill someone for you.”

Aziraphale smiled. “I appreciate that, dear.”

-

Aziraphale took a deep breath. He could do this. He had to do this. After all. They were married. Going on five years. They really ought to be having sex by now. The door to Gabriel’s home office was cracked open, so he slipped in.

Gabriel sat at his desk. He had his head in one hand, the other holding a file. He was rubbing gently at his temple, eyes squinted as he looked at his work. He glanced up briefly as Aziraphale entered. “Dinner already?”

Aziraphale shook his head. Oh yes, he wasn’t supposed to be looking at him. He wandered over to the bookshelf, pursuing the titles. “Just thought I’d...look around.”

“Okay…”

He could hear Gabriel flip the page of his file. He glanced at him, not long. “Interesting file?”

“Hm? Oh, no. Just some annoying legalities to work through.”

Aziraphale nodded. “Go on.”

“That...that’s it. Nothing to really worry yourself about.”

Aziraphale sighed. Crowley really didn’t tell him what to do if someone wasn’t talking. He decided to find another topic of conversation. Oh wait, yes, glance at him. Just quickly like that. “Anything interesting in the newspaper today?”

“Not particularly.”

Aziraphale bit back a growl. Gabriel had never been one for much talk but this was ridiculous. He couldn’t work with him. He had to skip to stage two. After all, he didn’t think stage one was all that important. The closeness was what had gotten him. That heat, that intense gaze, that touch. 

Aziraphale rounded the desk and stood next to Gabriel’s chair. He stared at him, making sure to keep his eyes wide. Gabriel turned to look at him. He was squinting slightly, looking Aziraphale up and down.

“Are you feeling alright?” Gabriel asked. 

Aziraphale leaned down, bringing his face level with Gabriel's. “I feel great. Better than, actually.”

Just close in now. Gabriel was still squinting. His breath was normal. He didn’t seem to be having any heart problems. Aziraphale grabbed his arm. He didn’t move away. There they were. 

Aziraphale closed the gap and kissed him. He could feel the muscles of Gabriel’s face move as his eyebrows rose. Aziraphale pulled back, satisfied with a job well done.

“Uh, thank you?” Gabriel said.

Aziraphale sighed and deflated. “I’m sorry. I suppose I’m not very good at this.”

“At what?”

Aziraphale stood up and leaned back against the desk. “I was trying to...oh goodness, it sounds absolutely ridiculous.”

Gabriel slid his chair closer, leaning forward to study him. 

“I was trying to seduce you,” Aziraphale said, turning his head, unable to meet that intense gaze.

“Why?”

Aziraphale was really tired of people asking him that question. Was it really ridiculous that he wanted to have sex with his husband? “Because, Gabriel. We’re married. We should be having sex.”

Gabriel leaned back in his seat. “Aziraphale…”

“No! Listen. It’s not fair! You have to deal with so much because you married me! And you don’t let me do anything for you. The very least you should be doing is having sex with me! I don’t see why you’re so against this!”

Gabriel smiled, which was weird. It was soft, with a hint of pity, and Aziraphale immediately felt guilty, and he wasn’t sure why. “Aziraphale, the reason you just gave as to why we should be having sex has nothing to do with being in love or you actually wanting to have sex with me.”

Oh.

“If we ever did have sex, it’s only going to be when you want to.”

“But...I-I do...want...to…” Aziraphale looked down. He thought he did, anyway.

“When you sound confident with that then maybe.” Gabriel was still smiling. “But I appreciate the sentiment.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “You really ought to try being mean one time. It might suit you.”

Gabriel’s smile widened, turning more sincere. “I’m sure as far as Crowley’s concerned I’m the meanest guy he knows.”

Aziraphale stood up and kissed Gabriel’s forehead. “He’s coming around.” Gabriel mumbled an argument. “Maybe you two ought to get to know each other, hang out a bit.”

“That will be the day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and perhaps, a day that will come soon 👀


	10. Everybody loves somebody

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this chapter is like, death. I was at a concert last night and have been super tired all day but decided to write this and upload it anyway because why not?

“Aziraphale! I need your help with something!” Crowley grabbed Aziraphale’s arm and tried to pull him away. Aziraphale’s grip tightened on Gabriel’s arm and he pulled back, keeping Crowley in place. 

“There’s no one else here,” Aziraphale said. “You don’t need to steal me away.”

Crowley frowned, not releasing Aziraphale’s arm. They were at some fancy garden party for some event or another Crowley couldn’t be bothered to remember. 

“What do you need help with?” Gabriel asked.

Crowley scowled at him. “I need _Aziraphale’s_ help stalking someone.”

“Oh? Who are we stalking?” Aziraphale looked around the garden, hoping to spy the object of Crowley’s attention. 

“Hastur,” Crowley said. He wrapped an arm over Aziraphale’s shoulders and pointed him out. “He’s here alone and I’m gonna catch him in the act!”

“Isn’t he the one that tore your painting?” Aziraphale asked. Crowley didn’t miss the look that Gabriel gave him. 

Crowley waved his hand. “Yeah, yeah, but forget that! This guy is never not with Ligur! But he’s alone now, and I’m gonna get him!”

“Get him how?” Aziraphale asked, giving Crowley a side-eye.

“He and his husband like to pretend they’re so perfect.” Crowley growled. “But I know there’s a flaw in their love and I’m gonna find it!”

“Exactly how many marriages are you trying to break up this summer?” Gabriel asked.

Crowley glared at him. But before he could respond someone came over to occupy his time, which was fine, as Aziraphale finally let go and allowed Crowley to drag him away. 

“So explain to me exactly the situation with Hastur and his husband?” 

Crowley pulled Aziraphale behind a line of tall bushes, both of them just able to see over the top. “He and Ligur like to pretend to be all in love and devoted. It’s sickening.” 

Aziraphale smiled and patted his arm. “Is it really that hard to believe that the two of them actually are in love and devoted?”

Crowley scoffed. “You haven’t met Hastur, okay? The guys a dick. There’s no way he’s committed like that.”

Aziraphale’s hand moved to his back, rubbing it gently. Crowley looked over at him. There was a smile on Aziraphale’s face, small and pitiful. 

“What is that face for?” Crowley asked, trying to ignore the heat that radiated off of Aziraphale’s hand on his back.

“What face?” Said face immediately dropped, turning into a fake innocence.

Crowley shook his head. “How does Gabriel put up with you?”

Aziraphale chuckled. “You know, I do wonder that myself.”

“Shh, shh, he’s coming this way!” Crowley ducked down, attempting to pull Aziraphale down with him.

“We’re not going to hide from him, dear,” Aziraphale said, refusing to be dragged down.

“Is that you cowering behind that bush there, Crowley?” 

Hastur walked around the line bushes, satisfied little smile on his face, arms crossed over his chest. Crowley, still crouching on the ground, scowled up at him. “I’m not cowering?”

“Oh? Then what are you doing?”

“I’m, uh, just looking for...something.”

Hastur chuckled, shaking his head at him. “You really are pathetic, aren’t you?”

Crowley opened his mouth to say an equally jarring comeback when Aziraphale cut him off.

“Excuse me,” he said, crossing his own arms and giving Hastur a hard stare. “But I am going to have to ask you to not speak to my friend like that.”

“I’m sorry?” Hastur said.

Crowley hopped back up to his feet, hands on Aziraphale’s shoulders, trying to pull him away. “Let it go, Aziraphale. It’s fine.”

“It most certainly is not!” Aziraphale shook him off. “Now I really must insist that you apologize to Crowley.”

“Me?” Hastur asked. “Apologize to him?” He laughed. “Oh, that’s rich. Well, Crowley, I must say. I think it’s rather charming you’ve finally found someone who believes your charade. Tell me, are you naive or just an idiot?”

“Well, I-” Aziraphale started.

“Love to stick around and chat,” Hastur continued. “But I have important work to do. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.” He winked at Crowley and strolled away.

“The nerve of him,” Aziraphale said, huffing up, face tingling red.

“I’m sorry.” Crowley wrapped his arms around Aziraphale’s waist, head resting on his shoulder. 

“Whatever for?” Aziraphale's arms wrapped around him, hands rubbing over his back, more heat radiating all over his body now.

He didn’t care how it looked. Crowley hugged Aziraphale tight. He had made all these big promises that he would protect Aziraphale and never let anyone get away with hurting or insulting him. Yet there Hastur went, calling him an idiot, and Crowley had just stood there and let it happen. 

“When it comes to Hastur I just...can’t…” Crowley sighed and closed his eyes, just trying to make it up to Aziraphale in any way he could.

“It’s perfectly okay, dear,” Aziraphale said. “He really is quite the bully.”

“Aziraphale, we’re leaving.” It was Gabriel, grabbing Aziraphale’s arm, pulling him away.

“No, no, wait!” Crowley said, standing up and panic boiled inside him. “I wasn’t doing anything!”

“It’s not that.” Gabriel started to actually drag Aziraphale away, with the strength of force Crowley always expected of him.

“Gabriel, what’s going on?” Aziraphale asked. He loosely tried to wiggle his arm away but otherwise didn’t do much to stop him.

“You can’t just take him!” Crowley grabbed Aziraphale’s other arm, pulling back, unable to match Gabriel’s strength. Please, please, please don’t take him away.

“I told you it’s not-”

“Gabriel?” The tug-of-war over Aziraphale halted as a woman approached them. “I thought that was you I saw.”

Gabriel released Aziraphale’s arm, and Crowley took the opportunity to pull him closer, still afraid that at any second he was going to leave. He would not let that happen. 

“Hello, Anathema,” Gabriel said. “I didn’t know you knew the Greens.”

Anathema smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “Newton went to college with Howard,” she said. 

“That makes sense,” Gabriel said. He was acting strange. He wasn’t looking at the woman, and he seemed to have no reaction to how close Crowley was holding Aziraphale. “How is...Newton?”

“He’s good.” A moment of silence. “How are you?”

“Fine.”

Crowley leaned down to whisper in Aziraphale’s ear. “This is awkward.” Aziraphale nodded and patted his arm.

“Well, it’s good to know where you moved,” Anathema continued. “Everyone’s been wondering.”

“I’m sure they have,” Gabriel said. He finally looked at her, his jaw hard set but his eyes saddened. “I would appreciate it if you didn’t tell them.”

Anathema’s mouth opened a bit, but she closed it and nodded. 

“If we just start walking away slowly,” Crowley whispered, “maybe they won’t notice.”

There was a loud crash and everyone in the garden turned towards it. A young man with glasses had knocked into a table, sending it and the dishes on top falling over.

“Oh dear,” Anathema said, “I’d better go help him.” She reached out and placed a hand on Gabriel’s arm. “It was nice to see you again, Gabriel. Take care of yourself, okay?”

Gabriel nodded and she left. Aziraphale shook Crowley off and walked up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you okay?” He asked. 

Gabriel cleared his throat and looked at him. “I’m fine. Let’s go.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Crowley ran around to block them, arms splayed out before him. “It was just a hug! It wasn’t anything!”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. It was Aziraphale now who was holding onto him possesively. “I’m not in the mood for this, Crowley. I just want to go home.”

“It’s okay,” Aziraphale said, walking Gabriel around Crowley. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Crowley wanted to protest more, after all, the party had really only just started and now he’d be stuck there the rest of the time without Aziraphale. But it at least seemed like Gabriel wasn’t mad at him, or not while he was dealing with whatever the heck that whole thing was about. Crowley hummed, tapping his foot as he watched them leave. What was that thing about?

He looked over at the woman in question. She was drying off the young man’s shirt with a napkin, shaking her head at him. Hmm. It could be possible that this Anathema person had been the one that Gabriel used to date. The one that cheated on him. Crowley scoffed. With that guy? Not a chance.

“Excuse me,” someone said, tapping his shoulder. “You’re Anthony J. Crowley, yes?”

Crowley spun around, looking down at the woman. She was a little on the older side, but still very lovely. She wore a green shawl that she wrapped tighter over her shoulders. 

“Depends who’s asking,” Crowley answered, turning on the charm. It was all he could do sometimes to get himself through these parties. 

“Must be you indeed.” Her blush did not go unnoticed. “I was hoping I’d run into you here. I’m looking to get a portrait done, and I hear you’re the best.”

“Well, you know what they say about rumors.”

“So could you do it? I’m sure I can make it very worth your while.” She reached out and grabbed his arm, giving him a little squeeze. 

“Well, I’m sure I could find somewhere to fit you in,” he said. 

“Marvelous. Here’s my card. Come by anytime you’re free.” She pulled a card out of her blouse and handed it to him with a wink.

Crowley looked the card over. Madam Tracy, it said. Apparently she was some kind of psychic or fortune teller. He looked back up but she was gone, disappeared into the growing crowd of people.

-

Aziraphale grabbed Gabriel’s arm before he could scatter away upstairs. “Wait a moment,” he said. “You haven’t spoken a word since we left.”

Gabriel shrugged. “I haven’t had anything to say.”

“I don’t believe that’s true.” Aziraphale grabbed Gabriel’s other arm, rubbing them gently. “You have to feel...something. After seeing her again. So unexpectedly.”

Gabriel’s head shook. “I’m fine. Just tired is all.”

“She was awfully pretty,” Aziraphale said. He stepped closer, moving his hands to Gabriel’s chest, smoothing down the wrinkles. 

“I suppose.”

Aziraphale slid his hands back, wrapping his arms around Gabriel in a hug. “Do you think you would have been happy?”

Gabriel didn’t hug him back. “What?”

“With her. If things hadn’t happened. Do you think the two of you would have been happy together?”

Gabriel sighed. “She was a good person. I’m sure she would have made a good wife.”

Aziraphale snuggled closer. “Too bad you got stuck with me, huh?”

Gabriel’s arms finally came around him, hugging him back. “You know I have no regrets marrying you.”

“Really? Not even one? Not even a tiny, teeny, little-”

“Aziraphale.”

“Okay, okay. I believe you.” Aziraphale let them enjoy the moment for a while before bringing it up. “About Crowley…”

Gabriel groaned. “I do not want to talk about him.”

“It’s just that the hug really was innocent.”

Gabriel’s arms dropped. “I suppose you’re going to tell me he’s just like that.”

Aziraphale didn’t let him pull away from his hold. “I’m telling you that he had a run in with his bully and he needed a friend. And we are friends so it was a completely neutral interaction.”

“Crowley has a bully?” Aziraphale nodded. Gabriel scoffed, Aziraphale’s head jolting at the motion. “Who could possibly bully him?”

“Some terrible little creature of a man named Hastur.”

“Hastur...I think I know that name. Yes, he’s doing some work for the mayor.”

“Well, whatever he’s doing he’s also bullying Crowley. And that’s not the worst part.”

“If I let you tell me the worst part, will you let go?”

Aziraphale shook his head, tightening his embrace even more. “The worst part is he’s obsessed with this idea that Hastur’s cheating on his husband because he can’t stand the idea that this horrible man is better at him than something.”

“Well, he must be. Crowley is not the best at relationships.”

“I know.” Aziraphale relented and dropped the hug, stepping back. “But I think he wants to be.”

“With you.”

“With anyone. In fact, I think we should set him up with someone.”

Gabriel scoffed and shook his head. “Unless that someone is you, I don’t think he’ll be interested.” He walked upstairs.

Aziraphale followed. “He has a mild infatuation with me,” he said, chasing after Gabriel into his office.

“Mild infatuation?” Gabriel smiled at him, arms crossing. “Aziraphale, he’s completely obsessed with you.”

“He is not!” Aziraphale stomped his foot to help accentuate his point, but all it did was help deny it.

Gabriel shrugged. “Okay. He’s not. He just comes over every single day because he’s, what was it, mildly infatuated?”

Aziraphale pouted. “Well-I-So what if he is? We just have to find him someone he’s more obsessed with.”

“Good luck.” Gabriel sat down at his desk.

“I said we, Gabriel. If Crowley has someone else to focus all of his, er, energy into, then he won’t be around me as much. I’m sure you’ll like that.”

“Would you? I thought you liked having him around.”

“I do.” Aziraphale wandered over, leaning against Gabriel’s desk. “But I could use some time away. I haven’t written a single word since we became friends.”

Gabriel chuckled. “I suppose we could try. Although I’m not sure who there is out there he could like more than you. For all our differences we do share a similar taste. That being the best. That being you.”

Aziraphale blushed. “Stop it. There are plenty of people out there better than me.”

“I disagree.”

“Well, you don’t have to agree.” Aziraphale stepped up to his chair. “You just have to help me find one for Crowley.”

“Can’t find something that doesn’t exist.”

Aziraphale leaned down and kissed the top of Gabriel’s head. Gabriel could lie all he wanted, but there were people out there better than him. And Crowley deserved to have someone of his own. Aziraphale could tell he wanted that, more than just a fling, an actual relationship. He just had to find him someone.


	11. Chekhov's Mistake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah. I'm aware that Madam Tracy is a bit...much...I'm not sorry

Aziraphale rubbed at his eyes, blinking to try and get them to focus. He had stayed up too late last night worrying. “Are you sure you don’t want to stick around?” Aziraphale asked, hoping that some conversation would help wake him up. “I don’t want you to have to leave on your day off.”

“It’s fine,” Gabriel said. He was actually eating for once, putting a smile on Aziraphale’s face. “I have some things I need to take care of in town, anyway. Anything you need while I’m there?”

Aziraphale sipped on his coffee. He didn’t like coffee much, but he needed it. “I’m running out of room in my journal,” he said. “If you wouldn’t mind picking me up a new one?”

“Don’t mind at all. Getting close to finishing the next book, then?”

Aziraphale nodded and picked at his food. “Yes. I’m having a bit of a dilemma with how to end it, however.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. There’s this...relationship that I know everyone wants to become fully realized. It’s just...well, I don’t feel like the characters are quite ready yet.”

Gabriel actually finished all of the food on his plate. “So what do they need to do to get ready?”

Aziraphale frowned, leaving his food uneaten. “That’s the problem. I don’t know.”

“Perhaps if there’s nothing that can get them ready, they aren’t meant to be together.”

Aziraphale looked at him. If only he knew. If only he knew how much Aziraphale wondered over that very fact every day. He shook his head. “No. They have to be together. They just need something.”

Gabriel sat back in his seat, hands folded on his lap. “I’m sure I could help more. But someone won’t let me read the books.”

Aziraphale smiled, blushing slightly. “You wouldn’t like them anyway. They’re not exactly your genre.”

Gabriel shrugged. “I liked the bit I got through of the first one. I think you’re an excellent writer, and I was enjoying it.”

Aziraphale’s blush deepened. “You don’t have to lie,” he said. “They’re not that good.”

“Just accept the compliment.”

Aziraphale sighed. “Thank you.”

Gabriel stood up. “I’m heading out. Don’t forget to eat your breakfast, hm?” He kissed Aziraphale on the top of his head. 

“Yeah, yeah.” 

Aziraphale stabbed at his eggs. He couldn’t eat. He was too nervous. It was a good idea, he kept telling himself. Crowley needed a boyfriend. And he wasn’t going to find one spending all his time hanging around Aziraphale and doing family portraits. This was how he was going to get to find someone.

The door knocked. “I’ll get it,” Aziraphale called into the kitchen. He got up and opened the door. “Crowley? What are you doing here?”

Crowley was smiling. “You invited me, duh.”

“Yes, my dear, but I invited you for this afternoon.” Aziraphale kept the door mostly closed.

“Yeah, well I saw Gabriel leave so I figured I’d come hang out early.”

“But, I need some time to set up.”

Crowley’s eyebrows furrowed. “Set up?” Then he smirked and leaned against the door frame. “Planning something fun, huh?”

The sooner he found someone the better. “Yes. It should be enjoyable. I just need you to wait.”

Crowley stepped closer, all but forcing his way inside. “Maybe I can help.”

Aziraphale took a controlling breath. “No. I don’t think you can. I’m going to have to insist that you wait.”

Crowley’s face fell. “Really?”

Aziraphale nodded, looking away. If he looked at Crowley’s saddened face too long, he feared he would give in. “I promise it will be worth the wait.”

Crowley sighed. “Fine.”

“And don’t just sulk around in the front yard. You’ll ruin the surprise. Go back to Michael and Uriel’s.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

Crowley groaned. Aziraphale risked a look at him. He was pouting, clearly trying to get Aziraphale to change his mind. Aziraphale shook his head and gently pushed on Crowley’s chest, forcing him to back out of the doorway. 

“Just trust me. You’re going to like this.”

“Fine, fine.” Crowley mumbled and walked away, hands in his pockets, shoulders slumped. 

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. Crowley could be quite the drama queen. But he couldn’t be there while Aziraphale was setting up. And he really couldn’t be there while the other guests were arriving.

With Bentley’s help it didn’t take long for everything to get set up. It wasn’t going to be anything big, just some tea and sandwiches out in the garden. Something small and comfortable, to hopefully help create a cozy atmosphere. Something Crowley could enjoy himself with.

Of the people Aziraphale knew, only about twenty or so would actually talk to him. Of those, seven just so happened to be single. (Technically there were eight, but the one not invited to the party was too old for Crowley).They arrived mostly in a good mood. Aziraphale was, after all, an excellent host. It wasn’t his fault that practically no one would even think about going to a party of his. But a tea to meet a prospective date was another thing altogether. (He had not planned to tell them, originally, but most of them had refused to come until he mentioned it).

Crowley was scowling when he showed up again. “It better have been worth it,” he mumbled, arms crossed.

Aziraphale held the door open for him. “I told you it would be. Come with me to the garden.” He grabbed Crowley’s arm and led him back. 

“Uh, there’s people here,” Crowley said as they stepped out. Said people were all looking at him. Aziraphale smiled, they all certainly seemed interested. “Why are there people here?”

“It’s a party,” Aziraphale said. “I wanted you to meet some of my friends.”

“You have friends?” Crowley asked. Aziraphale gave him a look. “I-I mean, uh, you’re the one who said you didn’t!”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “Come on.”

Aziraphale tightened his hold on Crowley’s arm and dragged him around, introducing him to everyone. Crowley was cordial, he said hi, he answered when spoken too, but it was very obvious that he wasn’t making an effort. It must have been because Aziraphale was there. That was it! Crowley was just worried about flirting in front of him.

Aziraphale got Crowley talking with someone and then slipped away, rushing inside before Crowley could realize he was missing.

“Everything alright, sir?” Bentley asked. He was working on decorations for the little cakes that Aziraphale had asked him to make.

“Oh my!” Aziraphale’s eyes widened as he wandered over. “Those look scrumptious! I say, Bentley, you really are quite talented.”

“Thank you, sir.” Bentley smiled. “Did you need something outside?”

“Oh, no, no. I’m just hiding out so Crowley can mingle as he pleases.”

“Well he’s not very pleased,” Crowley said. 

Aziraphale jumped and spun around. Crowley was standing in the entry to the kitchen, arms crossed as he glared at Aziraphale.

“Crowley! What are you doing in here?”

“Could ask you the same thing.”

“I was just...checking on the cakes is all,” Aziraphale said. Bentley gave him a look but said nothing.

“I heard you talking, Aziraphale. What is this whole party about, hm?”

Aziraphale picked at his fingers. It wasn’t like there was a point to lying anymore. “Well, I was just sort of hoping you might meet someone.”

“Meet someone.”

“Yes. You know, someone to...you know.”

Crowley closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Oh, I see. You weren’t a prostitute, you were a pimp. You’re pimping me out.”

“I am not! I just wanted you to find someone you could date.”

“I don’t want to find anyone to date.”

“I really think it would be good for you.”

Crowley opened his eyes and looked at him. He sighed. He bit his lip. He opened his mouth. Then he turned around and walked away.

“Where are you going?” Aziraphale asked, chasing after him.

“I’m leaving.”

Crowley reached for the handle but Aziraphale raced around him, slamming his back against the door to keep it closed.

“Please, Crowley. You can’t leave. They came to meet you.”

“Yeah, well I don’t want to meet them.” Crowley pulled against the handle but Aziraphale pushed back. “Move.”

“I’m sorry. I really am. I didn’t think you’d be so opposed to it. Just please stay. Just for a little longer?” Aziraphale gave him his best pleading look.

Crowley sighed, his body slumping as he let go of the handle and rolled his head back. “That’s not fair,” he whined. 

“I’ll make it up to you later, I promise.”

Crowley huffed, a bit of a growl to his breath. “You better.”

“I will!” Aziraphale grabbed his arm. Crowley frowned and slumped about, but he followed him back out to the garden.

-

Crowley grumbled and kicked a rock down the street. He wasn’t exactly in the best of moods. Aziraphale had totally blindsided him with that party. Which would be bad enough. And on top of that it was a party where everyone wanted to talk to him. It was exhausting.

He wasn’t exactly looking forward to working. But he figured it was the best way to settle his nerves. He worried that if he stuck around Uriel too long he’d get roped into accidentally talking about what happened at Aziraphale’s. And he had a feeling he’d somehow end up getting hit.

So he just stopped by to grab his stuff and headed down to down, the walk calming him a bit.

Madam Tracy worked just on the edge of town. It was an older building, and it certainly looked exactly like what he expected a fortune teller’s place to look like. Ivy crept up the sides of the house and broken shutters hung off the windows. Crowley felt a shiver up his spine as he knocked on the door.

It swung open almost immediately. Madam Tracy stood before him, long, intricate robe barely covering her body.

“Ah, sorry,” Crowley said, averting his gaze. “I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”

“Oh, no interrupting at all,” she said, smiling at him. “I knew you were coming.”

“Oh, right the, uh, telling the future thing. So…” Crowley risked looking at her. He couldn't seem to speak so he just gestured to the supplies under his arm. 

“Oh, yes. Do come in.” 

Madam Tracy held the door open and gestured down the hall. Crowley followed her lead to a small sitting room. It was decorated with dark colors, a lot of greens and blues. A couch rested against the back wall, with a chair facing it. 

“You can set up here,” she said, patting the back of the chair. Crowley nodded and sat down, pulling out his paints. “I want something for my husband, you see.”

Crowley nodded. “A popular request. Minis make nice gifts.” He pulled out the proper-sized canvas.

“I hope.” Madam Tracy dropped the robe and laid down on the couch. “How’s this.”

Crowley cleared his throat. It was not the first time a customer had disrobed suddenly in front of him. He’s become a pro at handling it, but it didn’t make it any less awkward. “That’s uh, good.”

“Are you sure? I really want him to like it. Maybe I should adjust like this?”

Crowley shook his head. “However you feel most comfortable.”

“I think this is quite nice.”

Crowley took a deep breath and got to work. He wasn’t unfamiliar with nudes, of course. But it was always harder when he wasn’t prepared for it. Harder still as Madam Tracy couldn't seem to sit still.

Thankfully it was a mini painting, and Crowley wouldn’t have to put up with it for long.

“Are you married?” Madam Tracy asked. She kept not looking at him. Which was equally great and terrible.

“‘Fraid not,” Crowley replied. 

“Anyone special?”

“Ah...not, particularly.”

Madam Tracy nodded. “Must be nice? Being free like that?”

“Uh, it’s, a thing.” Madam Tracy stood up. “Oh, I’m not done...yet.”

Madam Tracy walked around to the back of the chair, hands on Crowley’s shoulders. They massaged them gently. “I just wanted to take a peak,” she said. Her hands slid forward, fingers brushing their way down Crowley’s chest.

Crowley knew he should stop it. After all. What would Aziraphale say?

Wait. What would Aziraphale say? Had he really just thought that? What would Aziraphale say? Who cared? He had made it very clear that he wasn’t going to leave Gabriel, that he and Crowley would never be together. Had made it so clear he had gone through that whole charade to try and set him up with someone. 

Maybe a good night in was exactly what he needed to relax. He knew it was a bad idea. But he was never very good at ignoring them.


	12. Brotherly...something

It was okay. He was going to do this. He has snuck into a house before. Just because this house was big and had a very aggressive doubter of his lifestyle inside did not make sneaking into it any harder. The fact that there wasn’t a tree or drain pipe near his window, however, did. 

The sun was still on its way up, the morning a light blue sky as Crowley stalked around the side of the house, trying to figure out his best course of action. All he had to do was make it up to his window. Okay, he couldn’t climb a pipe or tree, but the windows of the lower level were pretty tall. He could possibly climb to the top of one and reach up to the bottom of his window. Yeah. That could work.

Crowley grabbed the side of the window to the library and stepped up to the ledge. He reached for the top of the window but was stilled. The blinds had opened. Michael was there, arms crossed, staring at him from inside. Crowley gave her a wide smile.

“Just cleaning the windows,” he said, using the sleeve of his shirt to rub at the glass.

Michale shook her head, face passive. She opened the window and Crowley nearly fell in. “Where have you been?”

Crowley carefully climbed inside, trying to smooth out the wrinkles of his clothes. “I was just having a few drinks, is all.”

“Please tell me she wasn’t married,” Michale said, latching the window shut again.

“There was no she.”

Michael’s hand grabbed the collar of Crowley’s shirt. “So when did you start wearing lipstick, hm?”

“Last week. Didn’t you notice?” Crowley pulled away and started heading for the stairs. Michael moved to block his path. “Look, I don’t believe my nightlife is really any of your business. So you can just go ahead and put that little judgemental face away, okay?” Michael did not put that judgemental face away.

“Either you tell me, or I’ll wake up Uriel and you can tell her,” Michael said.

Crowley did not want to tell anyone. His life really was none of their business. But if Uriel knew he had come home so late, well, she would find ways to make him talk. (He was pretty sure Uriel could make a good living as a torturer for the crown. She could get anyone to reveal all their secrets).

Crowley took a deep breath and released it in a growl. “Fine. I’ll tell you but you can’t tell Uriel. She might actually kill me.”

“My lips are sealed.”

“Yes, I was with a woman. Yes, she was married. No, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Can I go now?”

Michael shook her head. “Do you understand what the word no means? Do you...do you just need help learning how to say it?”

Clearly Crowley was not going to be allowed to go. He walked back and flopped into a chair, scowling, legs draped over the arm. “Go on,” he said. “I’m terrible, I’m disgusting, I’m gonna wind up dead at the hands of a jealous lover. Yada, yada, yada.”

Michael said nothing of the sort. She walked over and sat on the edge of the coffee table. “What happened?”

Crowley shrugged. “She came onto me. It happens. I’m hot, or didn’t you know?”

Michael rolled her eyes. “Crowley. I’m serious. I’ve known you since we were five. Did something happen with Aziraphale?”

Crowley crossed his arms and looked away, sinking further into the chair. “Nothing happened with Aziraphale.” And nothing ever would.

“You only do shit like this when you’re hurt. What happened?”

“I do not only do shit like this when I’m hurt!” Crowley looked back at her. She was not buying it. “I’m not hurt!”

Michael sighed. She stood up and stared at him with her hands on her hips. “I think you need to talk about it. If you don’t want to talk about it to me, that's fine. But you gotta find someone. You can’t keep doing this.”

Crowley was busy formulating a proper response when there was a knock at the door. Michael held a finger up to him and went to answer it, her feet soft against the floor. Crowley huffed. He wasn’t hurt. So what if Aziraphale didn’t want to be with him? So what if he tried to set him up? With an entire room full of people. That didn’t matter. He didn’t care. And he certainly wasn’t hurt.

“Ah, Crowley, good. You’re up.”

Crowley scrambled to his feet, tugging his shirt down and trying to look half-way presentable. “Aziraphale? What are you doing here?’

“Well, I was rather hoping you’d come over today?”

Michael hadn’t followed Aziraphale in, and Crowley found himself wishing she had, so he had someone else to look at. “Uh...I mean. Sure?”

Aziraphale had not explicitly asked Crowley to come over since that first time, after the dinner incident. It was usually just expected that Crowley would show up. For him to actually come over? And ask for him? In person? Something was up.

“Oh, good. We should hurry back before...uh…” Aziraphale looked to the side, clearly trying to come up with a lie.

Crowley looked down at his clothes, dirty and wrinkled. He usually didn’t care what he looked like but he really didn’t want to hang out with Aziraphale in the same clothes he had been wearing last night. 

“Do I have time to change?” Crowley asked. Aziraphale looked at him. He was scared. He shook his head, quick but short. “Lead the way.”

Aziraphale was really hurrying down the street, Crowley practically jogging to catch up to him. They stopped by the gate leading into the front yard. “Give me a few minutes and then knock on the door, okay?”

Crowley barely got the, “What?” out before Azirapahle was skittering away. Crowley leaned over and watched as Aziraphale started to climb the tree that lead over to his room. What the actual hell was going on? 

Crowley waited to make sure Aziraphale got into his window. Then he shook his head and walked up to the door, knocking as instructed. 

It opened much too quickly, but it wasn’t Bentley who had opened it. It was a shorter man, balding, staring at him with a familiar gaze that Crowley just couldn’t place. “The charity house is on the other side of town,” the man said.

“Uh.” Crowley looked down. No, yeah, that was a fair assumption. 

“Crowley!” Aziraphale was at the top of the stairs, breathing hard. “What a surprise!”

The man’s gaze changed and Crowley realized where he recognized it from. It looked a hell of a lot like how Gabriel looked at him. “You know this...person?”

“But of course.” Aziraphale smiled, fake and wrong. He sped down the steps and stood behind the man, still blocking the door. “He’s my friend. He comes by sometimes to chat and all that.”

“Yep,” Crowley said, uncomfortable with how uncomfortable Aziraphale looked. He elbowed his way inside, the man moving to let him in. “Anthony J. Crowley, at your service.” He slung an arm over Aziraphale’s shoulders, feeling his muscles relax beneath him.

“This is Sandalphon,” Aziraphale said. “He’s Gabriel’s brother.”

Ah. There it was. Gabriel’s brother, huh? Crowley looked him up and down. How was Gabriel possibly related to...that?

“Anyway,” Aziraphale said, a slight nervous chuckle. “We’ll just be out in the garden if you need anything.” He grabbed Crowley around the waist and pulled him down the hall to the back door.

“I guess good looks don’t run in the family, huh?” Crowley asked as they left the house. 

Aziraphale let out a big sigh and sort of leaned into their awkward hold a bit. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to drag you into this. I just…”

“Scared?” Crowley asked. His arm tightened around Aziraphale’s shoulder. “I won’t let him hurt you.”

“I just don’t know why he’s here. He showed up a few minutes ago saying he wanted to see Gabriel. And when I told him he was at work, he just came in and said he’d wait. I didn’t want to be alone with him.”

Crowley turned to the side, pulling Aziraphale into a proper hug. “Don’t worry. I’m here now. It’ll be okay.”

Aziraphale nodded and hugged him close. “Crowley?” he asked. “Why is there lipstick on the collar of your shirt?”

“Uh...I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for that.”

Aziraphale gasped and pulled back. “You met up with someone from yesterday, didn’t you?”

Crowley nodded. “Yeah! That makes sense.”

“Oh! Oh who was it? I knew it was a good idea! Please tell me!”

“No can do. She’s, uh, shy.” Aziraphale’s eyebrows furrowed. “Well, with this. She...doesn’t want to tell anyone! Not until like, we know it’s gonna work out. You know?”

Aziraphale nodded. “Yes, of course. Do you think it’ll work out?”

Crowley’s face tightened a bit. “It...could. But, uh, I wouldn’t be surprised if it didn’t, you know.”

“I wouldn't be so sure. You’re quite the catch. I’m sure the two of you will get along just fine.”

Crowley nodded. “Yeah. Sure.” Got along pretty fine last night, at least.

-

Aziraphale was normally happy to have Crowley with him. He liked Crowley. He was a good friend. But he had never been more happy to spend the day with him than he was that day. He was not, as Crowley had suggested, scared of Sandalphon. It was just uncomfortable. 

Sandalphon and Gabriel may not look similar but they were certainly related. They were both intimidating and imposing, but the difference was that Gabriel loved Aziraphale. He was soft with him. Sandalphon...well, Aziraphale hadn’t seen him since before the incident. He remembered him being nice enough before. But that was before. And while Gabriel had not murdered him, the two did have quite a falling out once the marriage happened. Aziraphale wasn’t really sure what would happen, but having Crowley there just made him feel better.

“He really is just going to stay there all day, isn’t he?” Crowley asked, coming back out to the garden with some fresh tea. They hadn’t really needed it, but summer was quickly approaching and they each took turns escaping inside for this or that to get a bit of relief from the sun.

“Yes, I’m afraid he is. Was he doing anything?” Aziraphale accepted the cup from Crowley with a smile.

“Just reading.” Crowley was smirking when he sat down. 

Aziraphale didn’t want to know the answer. “Anything interesting?”

“Mr. High-and-Mighty in there was reading a Dangerous Dan book.” Crowley laughed. 

Aziraphale’s eyes went wide. Oh no. What if he knew? Maybe Gabriel had told him. Or had told someone else who told him. Aziraphale wrang his fingers together and prayed that he knew nothing.

“They’re good books,” Aziraphale said. “I suppose he’s allowed to enjoy them as we do.”

“Oh! Speaking of. I just got to the part with the hippos. You read that?” Aziraphale nodded. “Can we please talk about it? I mean...okay, look, I get it. He’s scared. He has one fear and it’s commitment. I understand that, I really do. But when a prince, not just anyone, but a prince comes to the fucking swamp to save your ass, you do not just say thanks and run off! You kiss him! You tell him you love him! Dan is an idiot!”

Aziraphale smiled softly. “Yes, I suppose he is.” When someone disowns their family and moves towns for you, you kiss them. You tell them you love them. Why couldn’t Aziraphale just do that?

“Hey.” Crowley nudged him with his elbow. “You okay?”

“Huh? Oh, yes. Sorry. I just was thinking.”

“I’ve been told that’s pretty dangerous.”

“Is that why you never do it?”

Crowley gave him a fake glare and Aziraphale laughed. Crowley really did always have a way of making him feel better. They talked and chatted and ignored Sandalphon as the sun started to dip low in the sky.

Crowley stood up and stretched. “Suppose I should get going. I mean, I can stay here until Gabriel shows up and then just slip out the back, if you want.”

“Actually,” Aziraphale stood up, “I was rather hoping you could stay.”

“Stay? Like, with him here?”

Aziraphale nodded. “I’m not sure what’s going to happen between them. I just feel like maybe having you here could help defuse the situation, should one arise.”

Crowley sighed. He looked down at his clothes. “I mean, as long as Gabriel doesn’t get any funny ideas seeing this.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “He won’t. I haven't worn lipstick in years.”

“You know, everytime I come over it just solidifies the prostitute theory.”

Aziraphale shook his head and took Crowley by the arm, leading him back into the house where Gabriel would arrive soon. Sandalphon apparently had the same idea, waiting out in the hallway.

“Cowley? Leaving so soon?” He asked.

“It’s Crowley,” Crowley said. 

“And he’s staying for dinner,” Aziraphale hurriedly added. Sandalphon’s gaze wandered down to their linked arms and Aziraphale dropped his hold. He already had to worry about Gabriel thinking things. Didn’t need Sandalphon thinking as well.

A key turned in the lock and Gabriel stepped in. Aziraphale held his breath as the two brothers looked at each other. He wished he was still holding Crowley’s arm so he had something to grip other than his own hand.

“Gabriel,” Sandalphon greeted. “How good to see you again.”

Gabriel blinked. He stepped to the side and held the door open. “Get out.”

“That’s really no way to treat a guest. Mother raised you better than that.”

“You are not a guest. No one invited you. Leave.”

Sandalphon frowned. “No.”

Gabriel’s chest puffed out and he got that look in his eyes. Aziraphale startled and rushed forward, hand on Gabriel’s chest to avoid making a rumor a truth. “I invited him in,” he said. Gabriel turned said look to him. “It’s just that he came all this way and really I think the two of you should talk. Over dinner, yes? Bentley’s really outdone himself with the menu tonight.”

Gabriel’s gaze didn’t soften. Aziraphale raised his eyebrows slightly. Please, he asked with his eyes. Please don’t make this worse than it is.

“Fine.” Gabriel moved around them and walked up to his office. 

Aziraphale let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding. He looked back and Sandalphon who nodded his head. 

“I should go check on how it’s coming along,” Aziraphale said, mouth twitching into a smile as he raced to the kitchen, Crowley hot on his heels.

“What was that?” Crowley asked as Aziraphale looked over the food Bentley was preparing. 

“What was what?”

“That! You told me you were uncomfortable with Sandalphon around. Why didn’t you just let Gabriel throw him out.”

Aziraphale tapped a finger against the countertop. “Well...I’m sure it won’t make much sense. But Gabriel and his brother used to be very close. They had quite the falling out when we got married. I’m certain if they just talked they could work things out.”

Crowley shook his head. “You know, you really ought to try being mean one day. You might find it suits you.”

Aziraphale smiled. “Being nice to the people you care about is nothing to sneer at, dear.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I still think you should have let Gabriel punch him.”

Thankfully, dinner was ready in a few minutes. There was no easy way to arrange how they sat. Aziraphale insisted that Gabriel and Sandlphon sit across from each other, to better talk. But opposite ends wouldn’t work, as there would be too much space for proper conversation. But that meant Crowley had to sit next to one of them. And for as much as Aziraphale did not want to sit next to Sandalphon, he figured Crowley would be more comfortable next to Gabriel. Not that he looked it.

No one had spoken a word in ten minutes. Neither Gabriel nor Sandalphon were eating. Crowley was sipping at his wine, moving the food around on his plate and sometimes take a bite. Aziraphale cringed at every sound he made in the quiet.

“So,” Crowley eventually said, drawing everyone’s attention. “Sandalphon, important question. Was Aziraphale a prostitute?”

Aziraphale kicked Crowley under the table, doing his best to mimic Gabriel’s murder-glare.

“What?” Crowley asked, reaching down to rub his shin. “It’s a fair question.”

“About as good as,” Sandalphon mumbled.

Gabriel stood up, chair scratching over the floor. “You will not come into my house and insult my husband. Now leave.”

“I can’t deny the truth, Gabriel. And neither should you. Marrying Aziraphale was a mistake.”

Aziraphale bit his lip and looked down. It was true. Everyone knew it. There was a floral pattern on the rug beneath them. He found a blue one and focused on it. 

“Did you just come all the way over here to tell me that? You made your opinions very clear when we got married. But that’s all they are, Sandalphon. Your opinions.”

“Everyone’s opinion, Gabriel. And if everyone thinks it, it must be true.”

“Leave.”

Sandalphon stood up. “I came to tell you that I’ve spoken with Father. He’s forgiven you. You can come back.”

“I’m not going back. But you are. Now.”

“Don’t do this, Gabe. It’s not too late to fix things.”

“There’s nothing to fix. If you don’t leave this instant, I won’t hesitate to force you.”

(Crowley had secretly hoped that Sandalphon would refuse and Gabriel would punch him or something. Unfortunately, Sandalphon just nodded and left, much to Crowley’s despair).

Gabriel walked around the table. Aziraphale felt a hand on his chin, gently pulling until he was looking up at Gabriel. Gabriel knelt down, head just lower than Aziraphale’s. His hand moved, rubbing the side of Aziraphale’s face. 

“Marrying you,” he said, “was not a mistake.” Aziraphale nodded. He could feel the sting of a tear in his right eye and he blinked it away. “And I’m not going back. It’s not what I want. And it wouldn't be good for me.”

Aziraphale could only nod, even though he wanted to shake his head. He knew that if he spoke all he would do is argue that it wasn’t true. Gabriel had just been given his life back. A life of ease and comfort. Of not having to be miserable and worried about fighting everyone all the time. And, once again, he had thrown it all away for Aziraphale. Who did not deserve that.

He held his breath, biting the inside of his cheek. He couldn’t cry. He wouldn’t. Not there, not in front of him and Crowley. He would wait. He could wait. He had to wait. Crowley would leave and Gabriel would sleep and then he could cry.

Gabriel moved his hand again, wiping a thumb over Aziraphale’s cheek as if he had already started crying. And then he did. Tears fell out of his eyes, breaking against Gabriel’s thumb. He shook his head. He didn’t want to be sad. He didn’t want Gabriel to know he was sad.

“Alright. That’s it!” Crowley got up and stormed out of the room.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale called after him. He was leaving the house. Aziraphale shared a quick worried look with Gabriel and they were both on their feet, following him.

Sandalphon was a good bit down the street but Crowley caught up to him with the speed of a mad man. “Hey, asshole!”

Sandalphon turned around. His face only had a small moment of time to be confused before it was being punched. Aziraphale gasped and he and Gabriel raced up to them. Sandalphon stumbled back a bit, holding his nose. His eyebrows furrowed and he pulled an arm back to return the punch. Then Gabriel was between them, catching the punch in his hand, holding Sandalphon back. Aziraphale grabbed Crowley around the waist and pulled him back.

“Walk away,” Gabriel said, a warning growled out to his brother.

Sandalphon looked between the three of them, observing, calculating the risk of not following that order. He wrenched his hand free of Gabriel. “This isn’t over, Cowley,” he said, voice nsasly.

“I sure hope not, Sandy,” Crowley said back.

Sandalphon started walking away, still holding his nose. Aziraphale turned Crowley around and hugged him. He was still crying but now he wasn’t really sure why. He was still upset about what had happened at dinner. But he was also a bit happy. Happy that Crowley had defended him. And in turn, happy that Gabriel had defended Crowley.

Crowley hugged him back. “I can’t believe you’re related to such a tool,” he said.

“Sometimes neither can I,” Gabriel said.

At the sound of his voice, Aziraphale was very aware of the embrace he had with Crowley. Shaking a bit, he pulled back, wiping his face clean, using what energy he had left to hold the tears back again.

“You alright?” Crowley asked. 

Aziraphale sniffed, trying not to wipe his nose on the back of his sleeve. “I’m okay, yes. Thank you. For all of today.”

Crowley glanced over to Gabriel and Aziraphale followed his gaze. He had turned around, arms crossed, looking down at the road. As if giving them privacy. 

“I should probably head home,” Crowley said. “It’s really about time that I change.”

Aziraphale nodded, smiling at him. “Thank you again.” Crowley nodded back, patted him on the arm, and headed home.

As soon as he was gone Gabriel turned back around. He was clenching his one hand tight. But it didn’t look like an anger sort of clench.

“Oh dear!” Aziraphale grabbed it, looking it over gently. “That must have hurt,” he said, referencing the punch he had caught.

“It’s fine,” Gabriel said. “Just need to shake it off.”

“Come on, we’ll put some ice on it.” Aziraphale continued to hold his hand as they walked back to their house. “That was really nice of you, you know. Stopping that punch.”

Gabriel shrugged. “I just didn’t want things to escalate,” he said.

“You know, I really do think the two of you would get along if you just spent a little bit of time together.”

Gabriel was quiet for a moment. Then he said, “Yeah. Maybe.” And Aziraphale couldn't remember a time he was that happy.


	13. Hate to Love (myself)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never said I wouldn't make Crowley cry :D  
I'm sorry. But! Next chapter will be straight up classic comedy  
AND!  
We are only 3 chapters away from the big reveal!!!! I hope y'all are ready!!!

Crowley’s leg shook. Things had been back to normal for a while. Crowley went over and hung out with Aziraphale during the day, and he terrorized and was terrorized by Michael and Uriel during the evening. (Thankfully Michael had kept good on her promise to not tell Uriel about the incident). It was good. It didn’t matter that the garden paintings for Aziraphale was all the work he really had left, he just didn’t need to let anyone know that. 

Then Aziraphale invited him over on Gabriel’s day off. At first, he wasn’t going to go. But, as Uriel had so kindly pointed out, Crowley was whipped. Not exactly the phrase Crowley would have used to describe his relationship with Aziraphale, but not inaccurate. So Crowley stood outside the door to Aziraphale’s house and shook. 

He had been standing there for close to half an hour.

He was starting to get a bit sore.

Crowley sighed and stretched. Okay. He could do this. 

He could not do this. 

Crowley turned around, fully prepared to go back to Michael and Uriel’s and just pretend to be sick or something. He stopped mid-turn. Gabriel was staring at him. He was sitting in the drawing room, looking out the window, bemused smile on his face. Fuck. How long had he been watching him?

Crowley felt himself blush involuntarily. Well, at least that would help with the whole pretending to be sick bit. He prepared to zip away when Gabriel turned his head and said something into the room. Presently Aziraphale’s head popped into view. He smiled at Crowley and waved before heading towards the door.

Crowley groaned and worked up a good sick-voice to get him out of this. The door opened and Aziraphale’s smile was so big and genuine that Crowley just couldn’t bring himself to pretend to be sick anymore.

“I was beginning to worry you wouldn't show up,” Aziraphale said. Crowley stepped in and Aziraphale gasped. “Oh. You’ve brought your supplies!” He pointed at the case under Crowley’s arm.

“Sketches, actually,” Crowley said, following him in to the drawing room. “Some garden ones. Wanted to get your opinions on angles and stuff.”

“Of course! We’d be delighted to see them!”

Gabriel didn’t get up from the couch as they entered. Aziraphale grabbed Crowley’s arm and pulled him over, sitting him down next to Gabriel, himself sitting down on the other side. Crowley held the case on his lap and tried to make his body as small as possible. He could practically feel a knife or something reaching out from Gabriel’s side, ending him.

But all he did feel was Aziraphale’s hand on his arm, rubbing softly. He gestured to the case. 

Oh yeah. That was why he had him sitting between them. That made sense.

Crowley cleared his throat, aware that any movement on his point would press him against Aziraphale or Gabriel. He wasn’t sure which would be the lesser of two evils.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, struggling to get the case open. It was doubly hard as he tried not to push his elbows out towards either of them. “Clasp is broken.”

“Perhaps you should get a new one,” Gabriel suggested. He had leaned to the side a bit, graciously giving Crowley a bit more room to work with.

The clasp popped open, startling Crowley. When he jumped, the papers on the top of his stack slid off onto Aziraphale’s lap. Crowley busied himself with gathering the papers on his own lap first, shuffling the drawings to a proper order.

“You can’t go around as a respectable professional with a broken case,” Gabriel said.

“I don’t need a new one,” Crowley told him. He flipped through the sketches, pulling out the ones he was most fond of to show off. "This one works just fine."

“If you can’t afford one I’m sure we can-”

“I’m not poor!”

Aziraphale gasped softly, then fell silent. Crowley glanced over. Oh no. Oh no, no, shit, fuck, no. 

Aziraphale had gathered the papers in his hand, eyes scanning over them slowly. Crowley snatched them out of his hands, shoving the papers back into the case. “Uh, those are just, uh…”

Aziraphale’s eyes were wide. He swallowed. “I suppose you’re going to tell me you’re A.Z. Fell?”

“Yes!” _No_. What the fuck? Why had he said that? He chuckled nervously. Aziraphale was giving him a look that said he didn’t believe him. But there was no other way to explain it. He couldn’t just go and admit that he wrote Dan and the prince getting together as a way to deal with his own unresolved love for Aziraphale. “You got me.”

Aziraphale’s mouth opened, but only a soft squeak came out.

Gabriel laughed. And it wasn’t the kind of laugh that Crowley had expected from him. It was like an actual laugh. Deep, meaningful, full of joy. Crowley blinked at him. Then his shock wore away and his anger came out. Sure the Dangerous Dan books weren't exactly acclaimed literature, but they were good. And fun. And how dare Gabriel laugh at them.

“Laugh all you want! But I’ll have you know I make all kinds of money on those books!”

Aziraphale’s once pale face had started to blush. Gabriel’s laughter calmed down a bit. “Not enough to buy a new case, apparently.”

“I told you I don’t need a new case.” Crowley closed it, full ready to get up and leave if they were going to be that way about it. But the clasp didn’t latch and when he stood up it opened and all the papers fell to the floor.

His shoulders slumped, looking down at them. He should have just stayed home, damn it. 

“Yeah, no. That case works perfectly,” Gabriel said, smirking at him.

Crowley scowled and knelt down to gather his things. Aziraphale slid off the couch and helped, handing him pages. He stopped, standing up slowly as he studied one of them. Great. He probably had another one of the stories. Just what Crowley needed.

“Who is this?” 

Crowley gathered the others and forced the case shut. He leaned over, glancing at the paper. It was a woman’s reflection in a mirror. A self portrait. She had a long face with sharp bones. Curly hair, red as anything, framed her face. “Ah. That’s my mom,” he said. “I think, anyway.”

“You don’t know?” Gabriel asked.

“Never really met her,” Crowley said. “I mean, obviously I met her. Like when I was born or whatever. But she died right after so like, ya know. Probably repressed that memory or whatever.”

“Crowley…”

“Ah, no, please. Look it was ages ago. I’m over it. I don’t need your pity.”

Aziraphale made a few noises, the starts of syllables, as if trying to come up with something to say. He settled for, “She looks an awful lot like you.”

“Yeah.” Crowley was very aware of how quiet Gabriel had become. The last thing he needed was that guy feeling sorry for him. 

Or was that exactly what he needed?

“Probably explains a lot of my early childhood, ya know.” He sat down on the coffee table, fiddling with the clasp of his case. Aziraphale sat down, still holding the picture. They both watched him with rapt attention.

Crowley took a steadying breath. He hadn’t really talked about it with anyone other than Michael. Even Uriel didn’t know much about his early life. He was over it, though. So it should be fine.

“My uh. My dad didn’t exactly like me, you know? I think it’s just the whole, 'hey you look like my dead wife' thing. He didn’t look at me. Rarely spoke. Never even brought my mom up.” Crowley looked down at his case. He could feel a tear sting at his eye. He knew this was a bad idea. But now that he had started, he couldn’t stop.

“We didn’t even have any pictures of her in the house or anything. None of her stuff, either. I don’t think he liked to be reminded about her. But when I was ten I found this case. It was shoved in the back of a closet. Inside was all these art supplies and...that.” He glanced up at the paper in Aziraphale’s hands. He shrugged. The one tear fell down but he wiped it away swiftly. “Anyway, yeah.”

Aziraphale’s hand reached out and touched his knee. Crowley stood up. Because he really didn’t need their pity. He didn’t want it. “Uh. I’ll just leave the sketches here.” He pried the case open again, turning around as he pulled them out. “You can just let me know which you like.”

“Crowley…” Aziraphale stood up behind him. 

Why were his eyes so tired? He blinked them hard, trying to get rid of the sting. “See ya later, yeah?”

“Don’t you want-”

Crowley didn’t stick around to listen. He shouldn’t have told them. He could maybe have told Aziraphale. One day. In private. But in front of fucking Gabriel? What sort of demon had possessed him? He needed a nap.

-

Aziraphale held the drawing of Crowley’s mother in his hand, felt the material of the paper between his fingers.

“You know,” Gabriel said. “When I agreed to get to know Crowley more I wasn’t entirely expecting that.”

Aziraphale sat down. He couldn’t take his eyes off the drawing. She really did look exactly like him. Even the eyes, a sort of golden brown. The drawing of her captured the light perfectly, that little bit of glow to them. 

Gabriel reached forward and took the sketches from the coffee table. “He really is quite talented,” he said, leafing through them.

Aziraphale nodded. He couldn't focus on what Gabriel was saying. He was busy thinking about Crowley. About how a lot of things made sense. About how Crowley had grown up hated by his father for simply looking the way he looked. No wonder he was so...well...him.

“Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale shook his head, forcing himself to look away from the picture. “I’m sorry. What were you saying?”

Gabriel gave him a small smile. “Would you like to go over and check on him?”

“No. No I’m sure he’s okay. He probably wants to be alone anyway.” He did, of course, want to go comfort him. But Crowley had looked so uncomfortable talking about it that Aziraphale figured it was best to just pretend it had never happened.

“So. How long are you going to let him pretend he’s you?”

“Oh! Oh I had completely forgotten about that.” He couldn’t help but laugh a bit. “I can’t believe he said that. Oh dear.”

Gabriel’s smile widened, turning mischievous. “We could always have some fun with it.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, dear.” He shuffled closer. “We really ought to be nice.”

“Sure, sure. Nice.” Gabriel wrapped an arm around Aziraphale’s shoulders. “Or…”

Aziraphale nudged him softly with his elbow. “Well. Perhaps just a bit. It is rather funny.”

“Anything interesting in the story?”

“No.”

Yet another lie. This was a different lie. Gabriel would not want to know about what was in the few paragraphs he had read. Aziraphale wished he could forget. They had been kissing. Dan and the prince. If only Crowley knew who those characters were meant to portray. He probably wouldn’t be so keen to have them be together. 

But, oh well. He couldn’t tell Crowley how to think. And if writing those stories made him happy, then that was good.


	14. Anniversary

A few days had passed and thankfully Aziraphale didn’t bring it up. They went back to casual chatting and walks, the heat of summer slowly giving way to fall. It was almost time for Crowley to go home. The only problem was that Crowley had started to think of this town as home. He didn’t even miss his old place, and he didn’t have too many friends back there to miss either. He wondered if maybe he could just sneakily move in with Michael and Uriel. Surely they wouldn’t notice.

One day Aziraphale met him out on the street, already dressed and ready to go. “Good morning,” he greeted. He linked his arm with Crowley’s and started walking them down towards the town.

“Uh, morning,” Crowley said. “Where we goin’?”

“I need your help with a bit of shopping,” Aziraphale explained. 

“Oh? Need help trying on some new clothes?” Crowley gave him a suggestive look.

Aziraphale returned an unamused one. “No. I’m looking for something for Gabriel.”

Crowley groaned, rolling his eyes for added effect. “Really? Do I have to?”

“Yes. It’s our anniversary tomorrow and I haven’t gotten him anything yet. You’re going to help.”

Aziraphale’s arm tightened around Crowley’s, squashing any half-formed thoughts of escape he may have had. Crowley grumbled and hunched his shoulders. 

“Why do you even need my help? You know the guy more than I do.”

“I know. But...you see, you’re such a thoughtful person.” Crowley tried not to blush. “And so is he.” That helped. Aziraphale sighed. “But I’m afraid I’m terrible at gift giving. Gabriel always manages to find such perfect gifts. This year I’d really like to be able to get him something good, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.”

Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad. After all, he got to spend the day with Aziraphale, which was always a plus. A plan started to form in his mind. He smiled. Of course. He could use this to his advantage. He’d help Aziraphale pick out a gift alright.

“What’s with that smile?” Aziraphale asked, glancing at Crowley as they entered the main streets. He seemed a lot more relaxed in the town. Less people there cared about his past, Crowley figured. 

“Oh, nothing. Just excited to help you pick out a gift is all.” Crowley’s smile widened. Aziraphale gave him a wary look but said nothing more.

They visited all of the shop. Crowley did a particularly good job at suggesting the worst gifts possible. Sequin suit? Gabriel would love that! A painting of a skeleton? Perfect! A book about dog training? That’s exactly what he needs! (They ended up spending way too long in the bookshop, Aziraphale walking out with presents for himself). 

Aziraphale sighed. “It’s no use. I’m never going to find anything good enough.”

“It’s not your fault,” Crowley said. He nudged him with his shoulder. “They guy barely has a personality. Hard to shop for people like that.”

Aziraphale frowned at him. “You haven’t exactly been very helpful, you know. I know that you’ve been suggesting only the worst possible gifts.”

“What do you mean? My gift ideas were great!”

Aziraphale shook his head. “I thought you would at least try. Let’s just go.”

Crowley growled and grabbed Aziraphale’s arm, pulling him. “Okay, fine. I’m sorry. I’ll actually help.” Aziraphale crossed his arms and gave him a hard look. “If you want to find the perfect gift, you shouldn’t think about what he wants.”

“Fantastic gift advice. So glad I asked you to help.”

“I wasn’t finished. You need to find something that reminds you of him.”

Aziraphale’s face softened. “Something that reminds me of him?”

Crowley shrugged. Damn Aziraphale and his stupid face. If he didn’t look so thoroughly hurt Crowley wouldn’t help. Whipped indeed. “What was your first date?”

“Huh?”

“Your first date. What did you do, where did you go?”

“W-why does that matter?”

God, pink really did look good on Aziraphale’s face. Crowley smirked. “Terrible first date huh? It’s understandable. He doesn’t exactly scream romance.”

“He was actually quite romantic.”

“‘Course he was.”

“It was simple. We walked around in the gardens. He, uh, well, he gave me a flower.”

Crowley cursed his own bad luck. Of course the first romantic like thing he does for Aziraphale is the same damn thing that Gabriel did. He’d have to come up with something really big to make up for that.

“But I…” Aziraphale sighed. “I threw it away.”

Crowley’s eyes widened. “You what?”

“I threw it away,” Aziraphale admitted. He looked away, picking at his fingers. “I feel awful about it.”

Crowley scoffed. Who would have figured that Aziraphale, Mr. Lovey-Dovey Dedication would have thrown away a gift that Gabriel gave him. He hadn’t thrown out Crowley’s flower, he noted with a smile. 

“All right, come on. I have an idea.”

“Where are we going?” Aziraphale let Crowley lead him further into town, out of the main shopping streets and towards the more run-down areas. He started to shake a bit, looking around them as if expecting someone to jump out and try to rob them. 

Crowley stifled a laugh at him and pulled Aziraphale into a little shop in a fairly run-down building. He had found this place a few months back, when he was doing a little stalking about of the town. 

The shop was dark, with lights focused on the wares. Glass sculptures of all colors lined the shelves on the walls. The floor dazzled with their shadows, creating a fun effect of light and color to walk on. Aziraphale gasped, the floor creaking under his slow steps as he looked around. 

The shop owner, Dagon, looked up from the book on the counter. “Oh. Crowley. Come to break something else are you?”

Crowley chuckled. “Not this time.” Maybe break his own heart helping Aziraphale with this gift, but that was it. “My friend here’s looking for a gift.”

“I hope you have better reflexes than him,” Dagon said, giving Crowley a pointed stare.

“These are simply marvelous,” Aziraphale said, fingers ghosting over the shelves of animal sculptures. “You’re really quite talented.”

“I know.” Dagon went back to looking at their book.

“C’mon.” Crowley took Aziraphale’s elbow and led him to the back wall of the shop. It was lined with flowers, each a little note card attached to them. “Which flower did he give you?”

“Oh!” Aziraphale’s eyes scanned over the display. “I do believe it was this one.” He reached out and gingerly picked up the sculpture in question. He looked at the note. “Astilbe. What’s this now?” He turned it the note over. “Meaning patience and dedication to a loved one?” He looked to Crowley for more information.

“Flowers mean things,” he told him. “Giving certain flowers to people mean certain things. But I’m sure Gabriel doesn’t know anything about that. So just get him that and it can be like, symbolic or whatever.”

Aziraphale put the flower back and scanned over the flowers again. Crowley gulped as Aziraphale reached for the blue bell flower. He blushed as Aziraphale read over the note. Desire, love, and the metaphysical striving for the infinite and unreachable. 

Aziraphale re-shelved that as well (thankfully not looking at Crowley) and went around reading every note on the flowers. Crowley sighed and wandered about the shop, waiting and looking. Dagon kept a close eye on him and if Crowley wasn’t sure he actually would break something else, he’d pretend to.

“This one please,” Aziraphale said, smiling as he placed a red dahlia on the counter. 

Crowley didn’t need to read the note. (He was well versed in flower language, being an artist and all). Commitment, strength, and support. Crowley rolled his eyes, hands in his pockets as he waited.

They walked back to the house, Aziraphale beaming. “Thank you very much for your suggestion, Crowley. I think he’s really going to like this.”

“He better.”

Aziraphale stopped. Crowley made it a few more steps before he even realized, turning around to face him. “You alright?”

Aziraphale nodded. He looked down, shuffling his feet and biting his lips. 

“I can guess what you’re going to say,” Crowley said. “I didn’t mean anything by the flower, okay?”

“But you knew what it meant.” Aziraphale looked back, gaze challenging Crowley’s.

Of course Crowley knew what it meant. He just never figured Aziraphale would know what it meant. He scratched his head. “I didn’t mean anything. Promise.”

“You know, you do an awful lot of things you don’t mean.”

Crowley shrugged. “Eh. I’m an artist. We’re like that.”

“And a writer,” Aziraphale reminded him, a smile twitching to his face. 

“Huh? Oh yeah! That.” Crowley had really just hoped that Aziraphale had forgotten about that. After all, he hadn’t mentioned it since.

Aziraphale shook his head, smiling fondly at him. He walked up and took his arm again. “I suppose I just have to get used to having such a flaky friend, hm?”

“It makes things easier.”

-

Aziraphale was getting some writing done. He was running rather behind, and if he didn’t hurry up, he’d be late with the newest Dangerous Dan book. His writing was interrupted by a colorful wrapped something being slid before him. He hadn’t even realized that Gabriel had snuck up behind him.

“Happy anniversary,” Gabriel said, placing a quick kiss to the top of Aziraphale’s head. 

Aziraphale leaned his head back, smiling up at Gabriel. “Happy anniversary.” He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out his own gift. Also wrapped, but not nearly as well. He handed it up to Gabriel, who took it with a raised eyebrow.

Aziraphale stood up and led the way over to the couch, sitting with his gift on his lap. Gabriel sat next to him. He gestured at the gift. “You first.”

Aziraphale studied the wrapping. He could tell it was a book. Which was strange because Gabriel rarely bought him books. He carefully removed the wrapping, excitement bubbling in his chest. It was a copy of _Wuthering Heights_. Aziraphale tried not to look disappointed. On the plus side, his gift would be something spectacular compared to a copy of a book he already owned. Granted, a book he enjoyed. 

Gabriel smiled and chuckled softly. “Open it.”

Aziraphale flipped the cover open, mouth falling open in tangent. It was signed. Not just that. It was signed _too Aziraphale_.

“How, where, what!” Aziraphale glanced between Gabriel and the book. Gabriel just smiled. “Don’t just smile! How did you get this.”

Gabriel shrugged. “I have my ways.”

Aziraphale huffed, no where near satisfied with that answer. What ways did he have that got him in contact with Emily Bronte. And why hadn’t he told him earlier?

But all thoughts of that fled his mind as Gabriel turned his attention to the box in his hand. 

“No!” Aziraphale reached out and stole it from him. “That’s not your present!”

“You handed it to me.”

“It was a mistake.” Aziraphale fiddled with the box, not looking at Gabriel. “I, uh…” he wasn’t sure what he could do. He thought through everything in the house, wondering if there was something half as good to give him.

“Aziraphale.” Gabriel leaned over and took the box back. “You know I’ll love whatever you got.”

Aziraphale blushed and settled back against the couch. “I know. It’s just...well. You’ll see.”

Gabriel peeled back the wrapping and opened the box. He gingerly pulled out the flower sculpture, holding it up to the light. “Wow. Did you make this?”

“Goodness no! Although I’m flattered you think I have that kind of talent. I bought it.”

Gabriel turned it around in his hand. The red of the glass reflected onto his skin. “What flower is it?”

“A dahlia. I just. I saw it and thought of you. Is all.” Aziraphale really, really hoped that Gabriel didn’t know anything about the meanings of flowers. He couldn’t stand it if he did.

“It’s beautiful.” Gabriel carefully placed it back in the box. Then he leaned back over, a soft kiss pressed to Aziraphale’s cheek. “Thank you.”

“Thank _you_,” Aziraphale said. He hugged his book close to his chest. “Can you believe it? Six years?”

Gabriel’s face was smooth and soft. “I can. No one else I could imagine spending so much time with.”

Aziraphale could feel the emotions inside of him lifting him up, making him feel light and airy. He kissed Gabriel properly. It hadn’t been the easiest six years. But they hadn’t been terrible. This last year, specifically, away from old families and enemies, had been good. Being away from all that old influence was peaceful. Sure things weren’t perfect, but they were better. They had both started to heal. And with that healing came an understanding that their life could be good. And, Aziraphale figured, the next six years would only improve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 more chapters!!! ARE YOU READY????????  
Also, I'm so weak for flower language  
The Astilbe will make even more sense come the flashback chapter


	15. THE punch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHH  
WE"RE ONE CHAPTER AWAY YALL  
okay. well technically the reveal is at the end of the next chapter. but the backstory explaining it is after that!!!! WOOOOOOO

Crowley was not in a good mood. He had only agreed to go to this Gala thing because he heard Aziraphale was going to be there. He did not want to be seen showing support for Hastur and his stupid mural. But he figured that if Aziraphale was there he’d be fine. But Aziraphale was not there.

“I can’t help but notice a lack of charm on your arm,” he said, approaching the solo Gabriel as he entered the room. 

“He’s staying home tonight,” Gabriel informed him. He looked different. Relaxed. Meanwhile Crowley was a nervous wreck. 

“Great. Now I’m stuck here alone.” He frowned. 

“You’re more than welcome to leave,” Gabriel told him. “No one is stopping you.”

Crowley was going to argue but then he realized that Gabriel was right. There was no one stopping him from leaving. Sure Michael and Uriel might give him a talking to about just slipping away from a party, but other than that he was free.

“You’re right. Maybe I’ll just stop by your place and keep Aziraphale company.” He smiled at the prospect. A night alone with Aziraphale. Suddenly his mood was improving.

“You will not,” Gabriel said, that familiar growl in his voice. “Aziraphale is working and you will not interrupt him.”

“I didn’t know Aziraphale worked.” He always just figured that Gabriel was rich enough. After all, Aziraphale just spent his days lazing around with Crowley.

“He does and you’ve been quite the distraction already so if you do leave you are not going there.”

Crowley frowned again. If he left the party he’d just go back to Michael and Uriel's and sit around alone before getting bored and going over to check on Aziraphale anyway. And if Aziraphale was trying to work then he’d probably just get mad at him.

“What’s he do anyway?” Crowley asked.

“Uh.” Gabriel looked to the side. “He edits. Cookbooks.”

“He edits...cookbooks?”

“Yeah.”

“Sure. So he’s just, at home, editing cookbooks?”

Gabriel nodded. “That’s what I said.”

Crowley took a deep breath. “Wow, you are a terrible liar.”

Gabriel frowned and Crowley laughed. It was kind of nice, actually. A flaw. Something Crowley could utilize to get ahead in the game. The game that he technically wasn’t playing but really, did Aziraphale actually expect him to stop trying to woo him?

“Well, fancy seeing you here.” Crowley scowled and turned around, watching Ligur approach him. “Didn’t think you’d come around.”

Gabriel stiffened beside him, face tight. He looked a bit like he looked whenever he was taking Aziraphale around to these things. Crowley didn’t want to think about what that meant.

“Don’t get any ideas,” Crowley said. “I’m here against my will.”

“I’m sure.” Ligur’s gaze flicked over to Gabriel briefly. “No boyfriend tagging along today?”

Crowley balled his hands into fists, digging nails into the palm of his hand to stop from punching him, even though he was pretty sure no one would blame him. He didn’t need any of that coming up, especially not when he was alone with Gabriel, no Aziraphale there to interfere if he got angry.

He couldn't think of a proper response so he turned around and walked away. After all, if you can’t say anything mean, don’t say anything at all. He didn’t get very far before Hastur was blocking his view. He groaned. Couldn’t a guy get a break?

“I heard you were lurking about,” Hastur said, gross smile on his face.

“Just leaving, actually,” Crowley said. “Wouldn’t want to have to see your mural and get sick.”

Hastur laughed. Crowley hated it when he did that. Not just because it was a bad laugh, but because it was a direct insult to whatever Crowley had said.

Gabriel stepped up to them, standing just behind Crowley. Great. Just what he needed.

“I see you’re still hanging around,” Hastur continued, as if Crowley hadn’t said anything at all. “Even though you have no work right now.” His lips pursed. “Seems you should be heading back to that hovel you call a home.”

“I have work,” Crowley said. He didn’t need to know that Crowley only had one job that he was purposefully putting off so he could stick around Aziraphale. 

“Oh yes,” Hastur said. “The garden paintings. Tell me, does it always take you half a year to do one set of paintings?” He scoffed. “I suppose that’s why they chose me to do the mural. So it wouldn’t take too long.”

Crowley scowled at him. “Well they certainly didn’t pick you for your talent.”

Another laugh. Nothing Crowley said ever seemed to actually upset him and it ticked Crowley off to no end. “It’s charming how convinced you are.”

Crowley tapped his foot, trying to come up with something snarky to say back. Then something happened, and Crowley had to take a moment to process exactly what that something was.

First: Hastur said, “It’s no wonder you can’t find a relationship. How could anyone love someone worth so little?”

Second: Someone punched Hastur. For a moment, Crowley thought he had. After all, he wanted to. He had wanted to since the day he first met Hastur and that weasel wormed his way to the job Crowley was after. But it hadn’t been him.

Third: While Hastur stumbled back, holding his cheek, Gabriel was stiff, holding one hand tightly in the other and biting his lip. 

The room around them grew quiet. Ligur was, thankfully, nowhere to be seen. Those who were seen watched them. There was only a moment to react. After all, Gabriel had just punched the guy this whole Gala was for. They certainly couldn't stay there.

Crowley grabbed Gabriel’s arm and pulled him away, finding that he moved with him quite easily. Everyone was still too shocked to stop them as they fled the scene. Crowley kept up the pace as they walked away from the building, looking over his shoulder to make sure no one was following him.

“Here,” he said, slowing to a walk and grabbing Gabriel’s wrist. “Let me see it.”

Gabriel looked sick. His hand shook as he led Crowley uncover it. Fuck. His thumb was purple and swollen. 

“Yeah,” Crowley said. “That’s broken.”

He started leading them towards the doctor’s office. Gabriel was unusually pale. He was still biting his lip, and he refused to look up. Crowley figured it probably hurt. He had broken his toe once as a kid. It never did set properly (part of why he walked like that) and it had hurt like hell. He had to give props to Gabriel. Crowley had cried for a solid hour.

They had to wait for the doctor to see them, of course. They were given a small bag of ice and told to sit down and wait. Gabriel didn’t fight it as Crowley continued to hold the hand, pressing the ice to it firmly. He winced once, but that was all. He still wasn’t looking at him.

Crowley was perfectly content to sit there in silence. For all of two minutes. “So, uh, you never learned to punch, huh?” Gabriel did not respond. One the plus side, Crowley wasn’t really as afraid of being murdered by a guy who didn’t know how to punch. 

“What are you gonna tell Aziraphale?” He didn’t exactly want Aziraphale to know the truth. Mainly because he was afraid he’d go talk to Hastur and things would just get more out of hand. Gabriel remained silent.

“Hurt that bad huh?” He figured Gabriel was just concentrating on not yelling out or crying. A noble goal. Still nothing.

Well, as long as he wasn’t going to be talking…

“Thanks,” Crowley said. Gabriel thankfully didn’t speak, but he did finally look up at him. Crowley looked down at the hand he was holding. He didn’t notice how smooth Gabriel's hands were before. And warm, despite the ice on the knuckles. “No one’s...uh...no one’s ever done something like that for me before.”

He could feel himself blushing and it was stupid. Gabriel was the enemy. He was the block in the road that lead to Aziraphale. He shouldn’t be thanking him. He shouldn’t be drawn to the warmth his body radiated. 

“You are worth more than you think,” Gabriel said, his voice soft and quiet. Crowley pretended not to hear him.

The doctor finally arrived, taking Gabriel back to an exam room. Crowley waited. He could have left. But he didn’t. Gabriel emerged with a much more normal face and a splint of sorts on his thumb and around his wrist. 

It was quite late into the night when they walked home, Gabriel holding his injured hand and Crowley with his hands shoved in his pocket, kicking a rock along the road. 

“So, what’s the lie?”

“Hm?”

“That you’re going to tell Aziraphale.”

“I wasn’t going to lie.”

Crowley scoffed. “That’ll go well.”

“I don’t believe in lying in a relationship.”

Crowley looked over at him. His face was hard set. He seemed to be telling the truth, damn him.

“Well, ya know,” Crowley said, shrugging. “Some things need a lie. I mean, what do you think Aziraphale is going to do when you tell him you punched someone?”

Gabriel didn’t answer. Crowley patted him on the back. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll think of one for ya.”

-

Aziraphale worried. He had lost track of time until about an hour ago. He had gotten a fair deal of writing done, thankfully, but was still struggling to figure out how to end this book. When he had taken a break for tea, he realized how late it was. And how Gabriel wasn’t home yet. 

Aziraphale had given Bentley the night off and now he was regretting it. Usually, when Aziraphale worried, Bentley was there to listen, and offer advice and calming thoughts. But now Aziraphale was left to sit and wonder and worry alone.

What could have happened? Why was Gabriel late? Had he gotten hurt? Had he and Crowley gotten into a fight (assuming Crowley was there in the first place)? Had Sandalphon shown back up and convinced him to return home? Aziraphale was starting to get sick, sitting on the couch and hugging himself. He didn’t want to think about it. 

And then the door opened.

Aziraphale jumped up and raced into the hall. Crowley was there, standing next to Gabriel. They looked okay. And then Aziraphale saw Gabriel’s hand. He grabbed it, earning a bit of a grunt from Gabriel at his lack of gentleness. “What happened!?”

“He got it caught in a door,” Crowley said, nodding.

“I punched someone,” Gabriel said. Crowley gave him a look.

“What?” Aziraphale asked. He knew that Gabriel had an intimidating aura, but he never really believed that Gabriel would hurt anyone. “Who? Why?”

“It’s not important,” Gabriel said.

Crowley made a noise and his look of surprise turned murderous. “It was Hastur,” he said, squinting at Gabriel. Gabriel turned a glare to him. 

What the hell had happened?

“Crowley,” Gabriel warned. 

But Crowley just crossed his arms, smirking at him. A challenge. “Yeah. He said some not nice things and idiot over here punched him.”

Aziraphale had so many questions and thoughts he couldn’t focus on just one. Hastur had been bullying Crowley. And Gabriel had punched him. He shook his head, trying to wrap his mind around the situation and their arguing over it.

“It’s late,” Gabriel said, still glaring at Crowley.

Crowley shrugged. “Yeah, should probably get back before Michael and Uriel start to miss me.”

Crowley left and Aziraphale still didn’t know what to say. How on Earth was he supposed to react to this? He chose to focus on the immediate problem.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, running gentle fingers over the cast. 

“It’s fine.”

“You’re probably pretty tired.”

“I could sleep.”

Aziraphale nodded and led Gabriel up to their dressing room. He wanted to know more about what happened. What did Hastur say that made Gabriel punch him? It had to have been rather extreme. How did others react to Gabriel punching him? How did Crowley react?

He knew he would get no answers out of Gabriel, so he settled for waiting until he could get to Crowley. He stopped, mid thought, as he heard Gabriel struggling. He looked over his shoulder and watched Gabriel fiddling with a button on his shirt, trying to undo it without his thumb.

“Here, let me help.” 

Gabriel let him. Aziraphale stood before him, undoing the buttons, heating up at the closeness of him. He felt strange. Different. Like something was pulling him towards Gabriel. Like all he wanted to do was run his hands over the skin he had revealed. 

“I think I can handle that myself,” Gabriel said, voice strained as Aziraphale started undoing his trousers.

“Nonsense. You’re hurt, let me help.”

Gabriel turned his head away and Aziraphale helped him down to his under clothes. 

“I suppose you’re going to say you want to help me into my pajamas now, too.”

Aziraphale shook his head. He placed his hands on Gabriel’s hips and looked up at him. There had always been the promise of Gabriel protecting him. Of Gabriel doing something drastic if anyone tried to hurt him in any way. But there was always a hint of doubt. What could Gabriel do, after all, if someone walked up to him and said something nasty? Now Aziraphale knew exactly what. And even though he didn’t approve of violence, he felt a warm, fuzzy feeling thinking about it. 

Gabriel raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you going to take advantage of me in my weakened state?”

Aziraphale nodded. “I want to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 😏


	16. The Truth Comes Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to all y'all who called it! Especially Locksnrocks who called it in like chapter 8 and gave me a heart attack XD  
Cliffy Cliffhanger at the end be warned

Aziraphale woke up with a deep breath and a smile on his face. He hadn’t slept that good in ages. He sighed contentedly and snuggled up closer to Gabriel’s side. Wait. He was snuggled up to Gabriel’s side. 

Aziraphale blinked. There was certainly too much sun in the room for Gabriel to still be in bed. He tilted his head up. Gabriel was looking out the window, quite pensive, one arm wrapped around Aziraphale and the other resting on the covers. 

Aziraphale reached over, grabbing Gabriel’s free hand. “You’re still here,” he said. 

Gabriel startled briefly, looking down at Aziraphale as if he had forgotten he was there. Like that was possible, Aziraphale thought, remembering the last night fondly. “Good morning,” Gabriel said, leaning his head down to kiss Aziraphale’s forehead.

“Good morning,” Aziraphale said back, his voice a whisper. He was afraid that if he spoke too loud he might ruin the moment. “You didn’t go into work today.”

“No,” Gabriel said. He hugged Aziraphale closer, resting his chin on the top of his head. “Just didn’t feel like it.”

Aziraphale closed his eyes, listening to the beat of Gabriel’s heart. He wanted the reason to be him. He wanted Gabriel to choose to stay home to be with Aziraphale the morning after they finally consummated their marriage. But he had a sneaky suspicion of the true reason.

“You can’t just never go out in public again,” Aziraphale said. “Trust me. You’d never adjust.”

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” 

Aziraphale shook his head. He pushed himself up, breaking free of Gabriel’s hold and leaning over him. Gabriel’s face looked so soft in the late morning light. Aziraphale couldn’t help but bend down and kiss him. Gabriel smiled at him.

“You’ll have to face it eventually,” Aziraphale said. “The more you ignore it the harder it’ll be.”

Gabriel sighed. He wrapped his arms around Aziraphale and pulled him back down. “I know,” he said. 

“It’s not like they won’t understand,” Aziraphale mumbled. “Hastur’s a jerk.”

Gabriel scoffed. “No kidding.”

Aziraphale figured he’d give it a shot. “So what exactly did happen? I mean, what did Hastur say?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Gabriel said. “It wasn’t true.”

Aziraphale nodded. He could think of a few untrue things that Hastur could say. But he was still itching to know which one of those had pulled such a strong reaction from Gabriel. “Well, it was awfully nice of Crowley to wait with you at the doctor’s.”

“Yeah.”

Aziraphale’s fingers ran over Gabriel’s skin. He had so much he wanted to say and he could tell that there was more Gabriel wanted to talk about. And even though they had taken quite a step in their relationship, neither of them were quite comfortable enough to voice those thoughts. 

“I suppose I should get up and go, huh?” Gabriel asked. He hugged Aziraphale closer, as if hoping he would keep him there.

“You don’t have to,” Aziraphale offered. “It’s a special day. I’m sure you can afford to stay in. Unless you have something important to work on.”

“Nothing more important than you,” Gabriel whispered. 

Aziraphale smiled, a happiness swelling in his chest and he nuzzled his head against Gabriel’s shoulder. “Well, I’m not sure about that.” He chuckled softly. “But if you do stay then I hope you know I am going to force you to eat a full breakfast.”

Gabriel kissed the top of his head. “A small price to pay to get to spend the day with you.”

They eventually untangled, got dressed and made their way downstairs. 

“You know,” Aziraphale said, still holding Gabriel’s hand as they sat down. “I’m surprised Crowley hasn’t stopped by yet.” He looked out the window, trying to spot him on the horizon.

“Disappointed?” Gabriel asked. Bentley had made them a lovely brunch spread and Gabriel seemed to be enjoying it.

“No.” Aziraphale looked back at him. “Just curious. He’s usually come around by now. But, hm, I suppose if he figured you were staying home he might have decided to stay home himself.”

“Is he really that opposed to being around me?” Gabriel had a small smile on his face, amused. 

“He just has a preconceived notion of you, is all. I know that if he got the time to hang out with you you’d get along well. He just needs to come around.”

“Do you think he will?”

“I sincerely hope. I look forward to the day where my husband and best friend aren’t always at ends with each other.”

Gabriel studied him with a face that Aziraphale did not like. It made him nervous. Not afraid or uncomfortable, just worried. “I’ve been thinking about something,” he said.

Aziraphale chuckled, trying to ease the atmosphere that had settled between them. “Not too hard, I hope.”

Gabriel did smile at that, which helped put Aziraphale at ease. “I’ve just been thinking about this particular concept.” That didn’t really offer Aziraphale anymore information, so he raised his eyebrows. “Sharing.”

The eyebrows fell, pulling together. “Sharing?” He looked down at his plate. He didn’t have anything on it that Gabriel’s didn’t have. He looked then at his clothes. Did Gabriel want to share clothes? He didn’t think they would fit well. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

Gabriel’s smile widened more, and he turned his gaze away from Aziraphale. “It’s nothing. Just a thought.”

Aziraphale frowned and picked at his food. He wanted to know what Gabriel was thinking, but he didn’t want to push it if Gabriel wasn’t ready to talk about it. And Aziraphale certainly didn’t want to ruin the mood of the morning.

-

Crowley was torn. He didn’t want to see Aziraphale. But if he wasn’t at Aziraphale’s, then he would have to be working. But he had done portraits for nearly everyone in the town that wanted one. Which left him with one option: finish the garden paintings.

Well. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see Aziraphale. He did. He really, really did. But it was...awkward. And he told himself it was because of what had happened at the party. And, technically, it was. But it wasn’t because he was worried of what Aziraphale would say or do, as he told himself it was. It was because ever since what had happened at the party happened, Crowley felt odd.

If he didn’t know any better, he’d say he felt guilty.

So he avoided both Aziraphale and his feelings and spent the next few days working on the paintings. He was a little saddened that Aziraphale hadn’t come by to check on him, at first. But two days after the party he had gotten a letter inquiring about his health. It wasn’t exactly the rushing over in a panic worried he was hurt situation Crowley had hoped for, but it was good nonetheless.

Eventually the paintings were done, and Crowley couldn’t put it off any longer. He gathered all the paintings, tied them together, and struggled down the street, carrying them in his arms. The door was opened for him before he could even try to knock with his foot. 

“Crowley! I was so worried about you!” 

Crowley could just see Aziraphale around the pile of paintings. “Yeah, sorry, was just getting some work done.” He jiggled his pile. “Special delivery.”

“Oh my yes, please come in!” Aziraphale held the door open and grabbed Crowley’s arm, leading him to the drawing room. “Here, let me help.” He took some of the paintings from Crowley’s arm and placed them on the table, Crowley following suite.

“Thanks.” He stretched his arms, a slight ache from carrying all the paintings over. He had gone ahead and framed them already, doubling their weight.

“I can hardly contain my excitement!” Aziraphale said, glancing down at the covered art. Had to have some suspense. “But we’ll get to that later.” He turned, grabbing Crowley’s hands. “How are you?’

Crowley flushed and that strange feeling deep in his gut grew. Usually a smiling or touchy Aziraphale made him feel warm and happy. Now he just felt cold and sick. He hated it. 

“I’m uh, busy,” he said. He swallowed hard, trying to ignore the bile rising in his throat. “Maybe a little ill,” he added. Surely he had to be sick. He had gotten something. That was the only explanation.

“Oh, dear.” Aziraphale released one of his arms and placed the back of his hand against Crowley’s forehead. “Hm, you do feel a little warm. We could perhaps do this some other time?”

Crowley shook his head. “No, I'm okay, really. You wanna see ‘em or not?”

Crowley broke free of Aziraphale’s hold and uncovered the paintings. He handed them to Aziraphale, one by one. Aziraphale sat on the couch as gasped over each one, smiling brighter than ever. 

“Oh how marvelous,” he said. “Simply stunning! Look at the colors!”

The had gone through all but one, and that Crowley kept hidden behind his back as he watched Aziraphale marvel at the artwork before him. 

“You’ve simply outdone yourself,” Aziraphale said, looking up at him. “My house is going to look so lovely with these up here.”

“Yeah.” Crowley rubbed at the back of his head. He really wanted this feeling to go away. But every time he looked at Aziraphale it just got worse. “Glad you like them.”

Aziraphale placed the paintings back on the table and stood up. He opened the drawer in his desk, pulling out some money, counting out the agreed upon price. (Of which was more than Crowley had quoted him, as Aziraphale would not allow him to undersell himself). “You are taking all of this,” Aziraphale said, holding the money out to him.

Crowley smiled. “I will. But, you have to accept this, as a gift.” He held out the last painting. 

It was a smaller one, easily fitting in one hand. Aziraphale took it, smiling softly at it. It was a blue bell flower. Crowley had painted it once the living one he had given Aziraphale had died. But he could never seem to find the right moment to give it to him. Better late than never.

Aziraphale held the painting to his chest, holding out the money. “Happily.”

Crowley smirked and took it. Compensation for his loss of love, he figured. He coughed and shuffled his feet. “I, uh...I’m...well…” he sighed and closed his eyes. “I’m gonna be heading home soon.” Technically he was leaving tomorrow morning. But that was a part of soon.

“Oh?” Crowley didn’t open his eyes. He couldn't bare to see the look on Aziraphale’s face, whether it was happy or sad. He couldn’t take it. “So soon?”

Crowley shrugged. “It’s been half a year.” He opened his eyes but kept them on the ground. “Figured it was time.”

Aziraphale was around him, hugging him, holding him close, squishing his face against his chest. “Promise you’ll come back?” He said. “And not just to any parties. You’re always welcome here and you better visit often.”

Crowley gulped. He begged himself not to say it. “Come with me.” He loathed himself.

Aziraphale’s grip loosened but he didn’t pull away. “I’m sorry?”

Crowley bit his lip to keep himself from going off any more. He shook his head and hugged Aziraphale back. Which was a bad idea, because that gave his mouth ideas and before he could stop it he was saying, “Come with me. Let’s run away. We could go off together.”

Aziraphale’s arms released him, but Crowley just hugged tighter. “What do you mean, go off together?”

“Like. You and me. We just, we go off together. Away. Far away. Just you and me and we just...you know.” Crowley just could not shut up no matter how much he tried. It was a real problem and he had to work on that. 

“Crowley…” Aziraphale placed warm hands on Crowley’s shoulders and gently pushed him back. Crowley let go, knowing already that his chances were shot. If he had maybe kept his mouth shut he would have been fine. They could have been friends and he could have visited. But he wasn’t like that. And they wouldn't be like that. “I can’t.”

“But-” Crowley snapped his mouth shut. He would let himself say a lot of idiotic things but not that. Never that. He couldn’t allow it. “We belong together,” he said instead, a sort of what he wanted to say. 

“I can’t just leave with you,” Aziraphale said, not denying the claim.

And that non denial was the littlest bit of hope that Crowley needed to throw all caution to the wind.

He grabbed Aziraphale’s free hand, bringing it up to his chest, over his heart. “Come with me Aziraphale. Leave this shitty life behind and live with me. I know you’ll be happier. You know you’ll be happier. This is right, Aziraphale. This is right, so let’s just go!”

“I can’t.” Aziraphale’s head shook, but his eyes were locked onto their touched hands. “I can’t...I won’t do that to Gabriel.”

Crowley growled in frustration. Worse than that was the overwhelming feeling in his stomach growing about ten times worse. “Look. I get it okay? But you can’t plan your life around the fact that someone cheated on him. It sucks and yeah he probably didn’t deserve it but you don’t deserve this! You deserve to be happy, Aziraphale! And I can make you happy!”

Aziraphale’s eyes closed and Crowley’s grip tightened on his hand as a tear slipped down one cheek. “You don’t understand,” he whispered.

“So then help me! Help me understand, Aziraphale. What is it about this guy that’s got you all like this!”

Aziraphale took a deep breath. “It was me.” His eyes didn’t open and he shook a bit.

“What was you?”

“I was the one who cheated on him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH boy!! Flashback chapter coming in hot! You guys ready from some sweet, sweet Gabriel P.O.V.?


	17. Flashbacks of love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: this is a longer chapter and may take a few days  
Also me: writes it all in one sitting.  
OKAY
> 
> Also Gabriel's parents are shit and I wanna punch them
> 
> also be warned ye who enter here. The cliffhanger for this one is like a million times worse than the last one. so you can just read through the flashback section and hold off on the last present-time scene if you want until the next one is up.

It had been a lovely service and that was that. Gabriel wasn’t surprised. His family was never one to openly have emotion. He couldn't remember a time where he saw any of his family cry or laugh. They smiled, but only at parties, when they were talking to guests. He had learned to follow suite. But Sarah had been different.

Gabriel’s younger sister was always expressive. He remembered times as children when she would laugh and their mother would tell her to be quiet. Times when she would cry and her father would tell her to go to her room. Despite being emotionally inept himself, Gabriel knew that Sarah couldn't be allowed to have her spirit broken, so he would always comfort her, allow her to laugh and smile and be joyful when they were alone.

He should have been a better brother. He should have spoke up more when she got sick. He should have told his parents to call the doctor when she got that cold. Because it wasn’t a cold. And his sister shaking and throwing up wasn’t an overreaction. It was the flu and Gabriel held her through the night until she died.

It wouldn’t have been proper to not have a funeral. So they had one. And it was nice and lovely and proper. And then they went home and never spoke of it again. It was as if Sarah had never existed in the first place. 

Gabriel wished he could forget her as easily as his parents and brother. But it seemed like everything reminded him of her. Especially the gardens. Sarah loved flowers and plants of all types. She wanted to study them. She wanted to be a botanist. Gabriel didn’t have the patience or brain for science. But he could understand meaning. So he learned about the language of flowers as a secret rebellious memory of his sister. It helped ease his pain but nothing would be able to take away the emptiness he felt with her gone.

And then he got some ‘good news’.

“I’m sorry?” he asked, certain he had misheard what his mother had just said, not but a month after the funeral.

“We found someone for you marry,” she repeated. She had a fake little smile on her face that always threw Gabriel off. 

“I thought we were going to wait until I was a full partner at the company,” Gabriel said. He worked with his father, of course, but was still learning. They had wanted to make sure he had a good standing, both financially and socially, before ‘shopping around’ as it were. 

“We just feel like everyone could use a good celebration,” his mother explained. “A lovely party to brighten things up.”

Gabriel blinked at her. It was one thing to ignore the mourning period and push away their feelings. It was another to expect him to get married and be happy about it.

But there was no room for arguing, and his personal feelings on the matter were of little consequence, if of any consequence at all. “Who?”

“You remember the Angelo’s?” his mother asked. He nodded. They were a family from the town over. He had met them a few times at certain parties. “Well, they’re having a bit of a trouble finding someone for their son. But they’re a family of good standing, and we believe your union would be a fine idea indeed.”

Gabriel was not aware that the Angelo’s had a son. And if he was having trouble finding someone, what did that mean for him? Gabriel had never been particularly interested in marriage as a whole. It was always something he had to do, certainly not an image of the concept of love. He wasn’t particularly looking forward to marrying this guy, but he figured that didn’t matter. He’d do it. And he’d live with it.

“We’ll be visiting with them next week. I want you to get a new suit for it. We must be looking our best, yes?”

Gabriel nodded. He always looked his best.

-

The Angelo’s home was nice. A little smaller than theirs, but certainly nothing to sneeze at. Mr. and Mrs. Angelo welcomed them into their home with the same fake smiles that Gabriel’s parents greeted them with. Gabriel had his own fake smile, of course.

They were led into the drawing room where Gabriel got his first look at Aziraphale. He was sitting on one of the couches, nose in a book. He wasn’t unattractive. Cute, even, with little blond curls of hair and a round nose that moved slightly as he mouthed the words of the book to himself. He had bright blue eyes, as well, that moved across the page despite the five presences entering the room.

And he continued to read, even as the others filled in and started to talk. Gabriel didn’t pay attention to what the two sets of parents were talking about. He was focused on Aziraphale’s focus on his book. It was kind of charming, the way he didn’t even notice how other people had arrived. 

And then Mr. Angelo grabbed the book, pulling it out of his hands. Aziraphale jumped a bit, eyes wide as he looked up at the five of them. He looked sheepish as he stood to his feet, hands by his side, fidgeting with the hem of his jacket. 

“This is Gabriel,” Mr. Angelo said, a strong hand on Aziraphale’s back, shoving him forward. 

Aziraphale stumbled to a stop before Gabriel. “It’s nice to meet you,” he said, holding out a hand. He wasn’t even trying to smile. Gabriel found it fascinating.

“You as well,” he said, taking Aziraphale’s hand. It was a little sweaty. And cold. 

Aziraphale pulled away looking quite uncomfortable. His mother cleared her throat and Aziraphale rolled his eyes. Gabriel’s smile turned authentic. “A stroll?” Aziraphale asked, teeth clenched together. 

“Sounds lovely,” Gabriel said. 

Aziraphale led him out of the room, four pairs of eyes on them as they left. It was the illusion of a choice. Gabriel and Aziraphale were to be wed. But they would be given the chance to court, as if there was an end to that courtship other than marriage. But Gabriel wasn’t as opposed to it as he had been before meeting his future husband.

They walked through the house and out to the garden, Aziraphale setting a brisk pace, not speaking. For a while Gabriel kept up with him, but he slowed down as they entered the gardens, choosing to enjoy the scenery. Aziraphale sighed and fell back into pace with him. He was frowning and looking at the ground.

“What were you reading?” Gabriel asked. 

“Huh?”

“The book you were reading. What was it?”

Aziraphale shrugged, frowned turned scowl. “Why do you care?”

Gabriel could understand being moody around their parents, but they were alone now. And Gabriel was trying to be nice. “Just trying to make conversation.”

“Well stop it. Just because we’re getting married doesn’t mean we have to talk.”

Gabriel chuckled. He wasn’t wrong. Gabriel’s parents didn’t talk to each other unless it had something to do with the house or their social life. And Gabriel had once been content to have such a marriage himself. But something about meeting Aziraphale had changed that.

“Just because we’re getting married doesn’t mean we can’t talk.”

Aziraphale finally looked up at him, expression half confused and half curious. 

“We may not have chosen each other, but we can choose to accept the truth of our lives and live them happily.”

Aziraphale stopped walking and Gabriel slowed before him. 

“How can you be happy in a relationship you do not want?”

Gabriel thought about it for a moment. It was difficult to answer that, as he decidedly did want a relationship with Aziraphale. But he had once not wanted to. And he had figured he could be happy with it. Luckily his sister had also been quite fond of poetry, and gave him the perfect answer.

“Who ever loved that loved not at first sight,” he said.

Aziraphale’s eyebrows furrowed together. He looked up, thinking. “Shakespeare?”

“Marlowe. 'It lies not in our power to love, or hate, For will in us is over-ruled by fate. When two are stript long ere the course begin, We wish that one should lose, the other win. And one especially do we affect, Of two gold Ingots like in each respect, The reason no man knows, let it suffice, What we behold is censured by our eyes. Where both deliberate, the love is slight, Who ever loved, that loved not at first sight?'”

Aziraphale’s frown deepened. His eyes squinted. Gabriel chuckled.

“I suppose Hero and Leander isn’t on your reading list.” He turned and kept walking. A brief moment passed and then Aziraphale caught up to him.

“Look, I’m marrying you because I have to. Don’t go expecting me to ever be happy about it.”

“You don’t even know me,” Gabriel said. “How can you be so sure you won’t be happy.”

Aziraphale crossed his arms, his scowl almost adorable. “I’m being forced to marry someone I don’t love. I’m being forced to marry in general! You could be the greatest guy in the whole world but you’re still the one I’m being forced to be with.”

Gabriel nodded. Seemed like the guy was just letting the anger and frustration of his life poison his outlook on things. Nothing Gabriel could do about that except hope that time would cure him of his negative thoughts. “You are free to feel how you feel.”

Aziraphale practically growled. “Stop being so nice!” He stomped his foot a bit. “You can’t be happy about this, either.”

“What if I am? What if I want to marry you?”

“You can’t.”

“Can’t I?”

Aziraphale huffed and looked away. They had nearly completed their circuit of the garden. Gabriel’s eyes caught attention of a particular flower. He smiled and picked a sprig of the Astilbe. He held it out to Aziraphale. 

Aziraphale stared at it. “What?”

“I want you to have this,” Gabriel said.

“You want me to have a flower that I already own?”

“Well if you don’t want it.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes and grabbed the flower out of his hand. “You better not make a habit of giving me things,” he warned. 

Gabriel looked into his eyes and knew he couldn’t make such promises. For all he wanted to do was give Aziraphale the world.

-

The wedding date was set for a year from that day. They had an engagement party the next week, of course. The celebration that his parents had been looking for. But Aziraphale and Gabriel spent little time together, as they were both pulled away for congratulations and questions from friends and family.

Gabriel did get the time to speak with some of those on Aziraphale’s side. Apparently everyone was very relieved he was getting married. No one would give any specifics, but Aziraphale had been ‘like that’ for years. 

But that was what Gabriel liked about him, he supposed. Aziraphale reminded him a lot of his sister. Not because they acted the same, but because they both refused to give in to the constructs of their lives. He supposed Aziraphale was giving in by marrying him, but he certainly wasn’t going quietly. He refused to smile when talking about it, or show any signs of being happy about his upcoming nuptials. Not even when his mother pinched him about it. He was his own person, and he was letting everyone know that. And Gabriel, who was so much a miniature version of his father, both envied and respected that.

They didn’t even see each other much during their engagement. Aziraphale still did not accompany his parents to any of the events they attended, but about once every other month their parents planned some event or another for them to be together, be it tea or dinner. Never alone, as they had been in the garden. 

The only alone time they got was the month before they were to be wed. Gabriel had gotten the day off of work because there was a case much too complicated for him to understand. He figured it might be nice to go see Aziraphale, get to know him a little bit before the big to do. He hadn’t been home, but one of the maids had given Gabriel the directions to the lake he usually visited.

Aziraphale was sitting on the bank of the lake, skipping rocks against the surface of the water. He didn’t react as Gabriel approached. He thought maybe Aziraphale hadn’t noticed he was there.

“What do you want?” Aziraphale asked, squashing that theory.

Gabriel sat down next to him and Aziraphale shuffled away a bit. “Just thought we could chat.”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“Well, it’ll be a pretty quick chat then, huh?”

Aziraphale said nothing. He stopped throwing rocks, drawing his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. They watched the water ripple.

“Look, Aziraphale. I’d like to marry you. I think you’re fascinating and I believe we could be happy together. But if you are really so opposed to the idea then we simply don’t get married.”

Aziraphale scoffed. “Yeah. You go tell our parents that and let me know how that goes.”

“We can come up with something.”

Aziraphale shook his head. “Will in us is over-ruled by fate,” he mumbled.

“There is no fate but what we make,” Gabriel told him. Aziraphale simply shrugged. 

Gabriel stood up and dusted off his clothes, stretching a bit. He wondered if their marriage would be like this. If Aziraphale would always spend his time ignoring and avoiding Gabriel. If they would have short, meaningless conversations in passing. 

Gabriel decided he wouldn’t let that happen. He would devote his time to making Aziraphale happy, and one day, he hoped, Aziraphale would be. They would be happy together, as Gabriel knew they could, and everything would turn out okay. He had a feeling about it.

“I look forward to marrying you, Aziraphale,” Gabriel said. “But let me know if you change your mind. I’d rather you be happy.”

Aziraphale hugged himself closer and looked away. Gabriel waited a moment, and then finally left when Aziraphale made it clear he was done talking.

-

The last month passed slow. Gabriel was a mix of excited and anxious. Excited to be married to the enigma that was Aziraphale. Anxious that it was more of a challenge than he was ready for. Turned out, he wouldn’t get to find out.

It was the night before the wedding and the house was filled with muffled yelling. Gabriel could not find his parents, who he assumed was the source of the yelling, so he found his brother instead.

“What’s going on?” he asked. 

“Bad news,” Sandalphon said. “Seems your betrothed has skipped town.”

“What?”

“I didn’t get the full story. But apparently Aziraphale was a frequent visitor of a...Gentlemen’s club.” He wiggled his eyebrows a bit to imply exactly what Gabriel figured. “Aziraphale and one of the ‘gentlemen’ seem to have run away together.”

Gabriel should be relieved. He didn’t have to get married. He didn’t have to spend his time worrying about how Aziraphale felt, or what he thought of him. It was a good thing, he figured. But he felt a great sadness nonetheless.

He told himself it was just worry. After all, who was he going to marry now? His parents were probably already on the hunt for someone new for him to marry, especially since he had become a partner a few weeks ago. That was all. He was just nervous. 

And heartbroken. But he wasn’t going to say that.

-

As it turned out, his parents did find someone for him pretty quick. They didn’t want to wait another year. (Gabriel had hoped for it, to give him more time to get over the pain he most certainly did not feel from losing Aziraphale). A spring wedding turned into a summer one in an instant.

Gabriel only had two months to get to know his new betrothed. A young woman named Anathema. She seemed nice enough. He couldn't picture quite the happy life with her as he had with Aziraphale. But he figured he could marry her and be happy or marry her and be sad. He didn’t know why anyone would choose the latter so he committed himself to being okay with it.

But life, it seemed, was not done tripping him up.

He was having breakfast with his family. Everything was normal. Then he got a letter. Which was strange because he rarely got letters. But, as usually happened when he got mail, his father opened it for him. Gabriel watched his father read it, before folding it up and placing it in his pocket. 

Gabriel didn’t seem to have the energy for that kind of a fight so he let it go. It was probably just something to do with the wedding. Sandalphon, it seemed, was not as satisfied with not knowing. He didn’t make a scene at breakfast, of course, but later that day he wandered into Gabriel’s room, holding the letter in his hand.

“You are never going to guess what it says,” he said, smiling a bit.

“Is everyone going to read my mail in this house?” Gabriel reached for the letter but Sandalphon pulled it back.

“I don’t think you’re ready for this,” Sandalphon said. “It’s much to scandalous.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes and leaned over, grabbing the letter from him. He really wasn’t ready for it.

The letter was from one of the maids at the Angelo’s house. She was writing to inform Gabriel that Aziraphale had come home the other day. She didn’t know what happened, but he was hurt. And his parents had turned him away. She wasn’t sure where he was, but she figured he’d like to know all the same.

Gabriel didn’t know what he was feeling. But it was hot and uncomfortable. There were a lot of things troubling about that letter but more so than all of them was that Aziraphale had been hurt. He wasn’t sure how much. Not enough to not walk, of course. But there could still be a lot wrong. And if his parents had thrown him out he could be on the street, hurt and alone. 

Except Gabriel knew exactly where he was.

“Where are you going?” Sandalphon asked, following Gabriel as he raced out of the room.

“I’m going to go get him,” Gabriel said.

“Are you crazy?” Sandalphon raced ahead, blocking the front door of the house. “Why would you do that?”

No reasoning Gabriel could think of seemed good enough. He just knew that this was what he had to do. That if he didn’t, he would never be able to live with himself. “Because I am.” He pushed Sandalphon out of the way and stormed down the path. 

“Aziraphale isn’t worth anything,” Sandalphon said, jogging after him. “Mother and father will never approve of it!”

They didn’t approve of getting Sarah a doctor either, Gabriel thought, all the past resentment and hate bubbling up to the surface. He had stood by and been submissive to his parents while someone he loved died once. He wouldn’t do it again.

“I don’t need their approval,” he said. 

“But they’ll disown you.”

“So let them.”

-

The club wasn’t as run down or dirty as Gabriel had expected. It was actually quite put together. He gave a fake name and paid for entry. It was clear what happened in this place, but it was still much more sophisticated than anticipated. Gabriel got a few inquiring looks as he searched around, but none of them were from Aziraphale so he didn’t care.

“Not seen you before,” someone said, an arm blocking him in a hallway. The man attached to the arm was attractive enough. But also not Aziraphale.

“I’m just looking for someone.”

“Aren’t we all.” The man smiled and pulled his arm block, crossing them over his chest. “Who ya after?”

“Aziraphale Angelo.” 

The man squinted at him, looking him over. “Why?”

Gabriel shrugged. “I heard what happened. I’m worried about him.”

The man hummed softly as he studied Gabriel. Then he gestured down the hall and led Gabriel to a room. 

Aziraphale was sitting on a couch, hugging his knees to his chest and crying. Another man was sitting next to him, leaning against his shoulder while a third one was pouring out some tea.

“Angel, ya got a guest.”

Aziraphale looked up, face covered in bruises. He shook slightly. “Gabriel? What are you doing here?”

Gabriel almost cried himself. Aziraphale, who had been so strong and resistant and fiery, looked so weak and scared. It wasn’t right. And it was a sight that Gabriel never wanted to see again.

“I came to take you home,” he said.

More tears spilled out of Aziraphale’s eyes, the man next to him rubbing a hand over his arm. “I can’t go home. They don’t want me.”

“Not there.” Gabriel shook his head. “Home with me.”

“With you?”

“We are engaged.”

Aziraphale’s mouth opened slightly. “I-I-I-”

The man from the hallway stepped further into the room. “Why don’t we give them some privacy, lads.” He shooed the other two men out of the room.

“We aren’t engaged,” Aziraphale finally managed to say. “I left you.”

“I said I would marry you,” Gabriel continued. “I intend to keep my word.”

Aziraphale’s body shook his and blue eyes were stained red with tears. “I don’t understand.”

Gabriel had to get Aziraphale to stop crying. He couldn’t stand to see him so upset. Aziraphale deserved to be happy. He knelt down before him and reached out, wiping the tears off his cheek, even as more fell down. 

“I still want to marry you, Aziraphale. If you’ll have me.”

“If I’ll have you?” Aziraphale asked, his voice a sob, his breath heavy and hard. “I left you,” he repeated. “I ran away with someone else the night before our wedding.”

“I know.” And it still hurt. “But you were only chasing happiness. Which I told you to do.”

Aziraphale buried his face in his knees. “Some happiness,” he mumbled.

Gabriel got up and sat down on the couch. He'd get the name of whoever Aziraphale had been with and he'd deal with him later. Right now he had to cheer Aziraphale up. He placed a hand on Aziraphale’s back. “You can’t stay here forever.” Eventually he would need money. And there’s only one way to make money is a place like this. “So let me take care of you. Choose me, Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale’s head turned, looking over at Gabriel. “But I don’t love you,” he said. 

Oh but how Gabriel loved him. He smiled. “Who ever loved that loved at first sight?” Him apparently.

Aziraphale looked away, his body stilling a bit. He uncurled slightly, rubbing his eyes on the back of his sleeve. “What would your family say?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Aziraphale sniffed and sat up straight, rubbing his eyes dry. “I can’t let you do that. I left you and I have to live with that.”

“Don’t be difficult, Aziraphale. I don’t need you to pretend to be selfless. Just let me make you happy.”

Aziraphale looked at him, fresh tears forming in his eyes. He blinked them back. “You really still want to marry me?”

“I really still want to marry you.”

Aziraphale hesitated for a moment, then he leaned to the side, head resting against Gabriel’s body. It was a choice. And it was a start. And even though Gabriel knew that their marriage would be harder now than before, he also knew this was still what he wanted. He wanted to spend his life making Aziraphale happy. And he swore that one day he would, even if it was the last thing he ever did.

-

Crowley couldn’t believe it. It had to be a lie. No guy would do something like that.

“So you see?” Aziraphale said, after he finished speaking his past. “Gabriel chose to help me, even though I had been so terribly mean to him. And I can’t hurt him. It doesn’t matter how badly I do want to be with you. I won’t treat his act of kindness with such disrespect.”

Aziraphale was waiting for a response. But Crowley didn’t know what kind of a response to give him. He saw it, of course. He sure as hell understood. Aziraphale may have enough of a bastard energy in him to be worth liking, but if he did something like run away with Crowley he would step into true bastard territory. 

But where did that leave Crowley? He loved Aziraphale. But it was clear that Gabriel did too. And even though Aziraphale loved Crowley, he would not, and really should not, leave Gabriel. What else was Crowley to do?

He turned and left. He knew it was a shitty thing to do. He didn’t want to make it seem like he would only hang around Aziraphale if they were together. But Aziraphale had just admitted to wanting to be with him. And that was something he would never be able to ignore. So he removed himself from the equation.

Aziraphale called after him, chased him to the front door, but ultimately let him leave. And for that Crowley was thankful. He was going to go home and he would forget about Aziraphale and this stupid town he had let himself fall in love with. He didn’t even want to go back to Michael’s and Uriel’s. It was getting late but he would just sleep at the train station. They might find a way to get him to stick around and he was not having that.

No one was on the streets to bother him. He shoved his hands in his pockets, the cool air of approaching fall chilling him a bit. He only stopped when he remembered that he had left his case in his room. He stood in the street at the entrance to the town and juggled the options in his head.

He could go back and get it. Could sneak in and out before they caught him. He would have to. The only other option was to ask Michael to mail it to him, which she wouldn’t. She’d hold it hostage to get him to come back and he wouldn’t do that.

Crowley turned around and felt something sharp in his stomach, just below the ribs. Someone was standing before him, holding his shoulder and digging that sharp thing into him. 

“Sleep with my wife, will ya?” a voice grumbled in his ear. 

He knew that voice. He had heard many a husbands’ and wives’ voices as he snuck out of various homes. This particular one was attached to the memory of wiggling out of Madam Tracy’s window.

The man left. Crowley looked down. The hilt of a dagger stuck out of him. And his shirt, once grey, was now quite red. Breathing hurt. And his head was getting light. Crowley took a step forward but fell to his knees. Then his side. Lying in the street. 

He always knew it would end like this, alone and in the gutters. He just never figured it would be so soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He's _fine_


	18. Recovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I knew I'd write it all in one day again lol  
Also!! THE SOFT!! IT"S HAPPENING!!!  
but don't worry. There's still plenty of emotional turmoil to go around

It was always an ordeal waking up. But it was particularly difficult for Crowley that morning. His side hurt, just under his rib. He was also in a bed that he did not recognize, in a room totally foreign to him. He blinked, and closed his eyes again, hoping to just ignore life and go back to the blissful ignorance that is being unconscious.

But that pain in his stomach was not going away and he was really thirsty. He groaned and forced his eyes open again. He was wearing pajama pants, but no shirt. He reached down and touched at where it hurt. There was a bandage of sorts wrapped around him. When he touched at the spot it hurt more and he stifled a groan.

Oh yeah. He had gotten stabbed. Well that explained the pain. He was probably out for a while too, which explained his thirst. The only thing he was having trouble figuring out was the room he was in. And he was really curious. It was too fancy and big to be one of the houses in the town. And it wasn’t the room he had had at Michael’s and Uriel’s.

He forced himself to his feet, the pain stabbing at him. But if he pressed against the source of it, it didn’t hurt as bad. He leaned over, shuffling his way to the door. He pulled it open and squinted. This hallway looked vaguely familiar. He stepped his way along the hall, trying to figure out why it looked so familiar.

The steps creaked as he descended them, holding onto the railing for support. (Turns out that getting stabbed makes balance a little difficult). He stopped half-way down when he spied a painting hanging in the hallway on the floor below him. One of his paintings. He knew exactly where he was and now he was panicking.

He figured his best course of action was to go back to the room and climb out the window. He was good at that kind of stuff and really, a little stab wound in his side couldn’t make escape that much more difficult. 

Crowley nodded at his decision and slowly spun around, steadying himself before climbing back up the steps, much more painful and annoying than going down them.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Aziraphale’s voice cut through the air and Crowley winced. He didn’t dare turn around. He stood, frozen, as Aziraphale climbed up to him. 

Then Aziraphale’s hands were on him and Crowley was shaking. He was just weak from the stab wound, was all. 

“You should not be out of bed,” Aziraphale chided. Then he bent down and hooked one arm under Crowley’s legs, lifting him up with a soft grunt. 

Crowley’s turned-onness overcame his fear. He looked at Aziraphale with wide eyes as he was carried bridal-style up the steps. “Why are you so strong?” he asked.

Aziraphale’s face remained hard-set, stoic...tired. He had bags under his eyes and his forehead had little wrinkles running over it. He said nothing, carrying Crowley back to the bed and setting him down. Then he turned his attention to the bandage around Crowley’s body, fingers touching at the spot of the wound. “If you’ve opened your stitches…” His voice warned that Crowley better not have.

Crowley flinched at the touches. He was uncomfortable both with the pain and the closeness of Aziraphale. Satisfied with what he found, Aziraphale sighed and dragged a chair over, sitting next to the bed. He fixed Crowley with a steady gaze. 

Crowley gulped and couldn’t look away. “Where’s the knife?” he asked, because he couldn’t say anything else.

“What?”

“The knife. That was in me. Where is it? Is it cool looking at least?”

Aziraphale shook his head, eyebrows furrowing. “I don’t know. I assume the doctor threw it away.”

Crowley frowned. “Damn shame.”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said, practically hissed, voice laden with distress. “You were stabbed!”

“Yeah, I know. Least I could do is get a cool knife out of it.”

Aziraphale’s face twisted into a mix of disgust, fear, and concern. Usually it was the kind of face that Crowley liked to get from people. But it worried him on Aziraphale. He didn’t ever want to make Aziraphale feel any of those things. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled. He still couldn’t look away and it was annoying. Because the more he looked into those blue eyes the worse he felt. “Uh, so, what happened?”

“You tell me,” Aziraphale said. “All I know is that you were found lying in the street, bleeding out. Someone, thank god, found you and took you to the doctor before you had time to die!” (what a shame, Crowley thought). Aziraphale was crying now and Crowley felt even more guilty. “What happened?”

Crowley gulped, really wishing he had a glass of water. Or alcohol. No yeah, make it alcohol. “Uh, I was stabbed.” He shrugged.

“By who?”

Well, he certainly wasn’t going to tell the truth on that. “Just some drunk guy. I don’t know I was just walking and he came up to me and was like, all drunk and stuff. Stabbed me. I don’t know maybe he thought I was someone else.”

Aziraphale’s eyes narrowed, thankfully not crying anymore. “Just some random drunk guy?”

“Yep.” Aziraphale didn’t look totally convinced. “Why am I here, by the way?”

“What do you mean? You need a place to recover.”

“Yeah. But why am I here.” Crowley gestured to the room. “In your house?”

“Oh. Well they wouldn’t let you leave the doctor’s unless you had someone to take care of you during the day. And well, I don’t work so I figured it made the most sense.”

“Uriel doesn’t work either.”

Aziraphale was actually blushing now, and he turned his head away, finally breaking the eye-contact spell. “Well...I didn’t think that it would be a good atmosphere for recovery. She does have a tendency to be a bit...less than gentle.”

Crowley chuckled. “That’s one way to put it.” He stretched his shoulders a bit. The room fell into silence. Crowley had never been terribly comfortable with silence. But the only other option was to talk about his feelings. He shuddered.

“I-” Crowley started. 

“We-” Aziraphale started at the same time.

They both fell quiet. “You first,” Crowley said.

“No, no,” Aziraphale said. “Go ahead.”

Crowley sighed. They were staring at each other again. He was going to wait for Aziraphale to start again. But he was taking too long.

“Sorry I just ran out,” Crowley mumbled.

“It’s alright. I understand. I’m just so glad you’re okay.” He was starting to cry again. “I couldn’t stand it if our last interaction was...that.”

“Yeah,” Crowley agreed. Bile bit at his stomach, threatening his throat. He had intended for that to be their last interaction. But he had always figured at some point they’d meet again. But kind of hard to do that when you’re dead. 

There was a knock on the door and Bentley stuck his head in. “I figured you might like some tea,” he said.

“Oh yes!” Aziraphale said. “Thank you!”

Bentley walked in and placed a tray of tea on the table next to the bed. Crowley started to sit up, reaching for one.

“Let me help.” Aziraphale stood up and grabbed Crowley’s sides, helping him to sit against the headboard. The touch of Aziraphale’s fingers against him made Crowley’s skin hot. 

Crowley took the tea cup he was offered and held it to his mouth, a small attempt to hide his blush as Aziraphale positioned the covers around him, tucking him in. 

“The tea’s supposed to help with the pain,” Aziraphale said. He settled back in his seat with his own cup.

Crowley took a sip and tried not to look disgusted. “What’s in it?” he asked, his voice betraying him.

“Ginger,” Aziraphale said.

“Is that it? Is it just, liquefied ginger?” Crowley had never been a fan of the taste of ginger in the first place. This was torture.

Aziraphale took a sip. “It’s not that bad. Don’t overreact. You need it to heal.”

“Can’t I just knock back some drugs and pass out until I’m better?”

“Absolutely not!”

Crowley sighed and suffered his way through the cup, glad at least to not be thirsty anymore. And thankfully Aziraphale didn’t seem to want to talk as they drank their tea. Of course, tea couldn’t last forever.

“Why did you leave?” he asked. Crowley’s cup was empty but he kept it held to his mouth. “I can understand you were upset but...I just have to know why.”

“What do you mean why?” Crowley asked. As if it wasn’t entirely obvious.

Aziraphale looked down at his hands in his lap, fingers fidgeting. “I just...I,” he took a deep breath, “I know that it’s probably ridiculous, but I just wanted to be sure.”

Crowley shook his head. “Be sure of what?”

“Be sure that you didn’t...well...it sounds a little silly saying it out loud, but that you didn’t hate me for what I did. For running away the night before my wedding with some...you know.”

Crowley’s eyes went wide because how could Aziraphale even think that? Who on earth would hate him for that? Well, maybe Gabriel at first. And their families. And apparently all of the other snooty uptight bitches in the world. Okay, it actually made sense that Aziraphale would think that, and now Crowley felt even worse for just leaving.

“Of course not,” he said. Aziraphale looked up, uncertain. The only way Crowley could convince him would be to tell the truth. Which he wasn’t a fan of. Truth, in general, was unsettling. “I left because…” He really didn’t want to admit it. It made him sound like such a jerk. “Because I knew you would never be with me and I couldn’t handle that.” He shrugged, like that would help.

Aziraphale sighed. “Oh, good. I was worried you...thought less of me.”

“Never,” Crowley said. “Nothing you could do would make me think any less of you.”

Aziraphale smiled and Crowley chose instead to notice how dark it was outside. “Hey. It’s pretty late.”

“You are staying here,” Aziraphale said. “I don’t want to hear any arguments. You need to rest and I’m keeping you right where I can keep an eye on you.”

“I was going to ask where Gabriel was.” Not that Crowley particularly cared. He was just curious.

Aziraphale blinked and looked out the window. “Oh. I hadn’t realized.” He frowned. “I didn’t hear him come in...I hope he’s okay.”

“Maybe he’s just working late on something?”

Aziraphale nodded. “I’m sure that’s it. Yes.” His face grew ever more worrisome.

“He’s not...like upset I’m here is he?” Crowley really didn’t want to drive them apart. Curse his bleeding heart.

“Oh no.” Aziraphale looked at him. “It was his idea, actually.” Crowley ignored the weird feeling in his stomach. Different from the guilt. “But he was rather upset at what had happened as a whole. I’m worried he might do something drastic.”

“Like what?”

“Like punching Hastur at a party for being rude to you.”

Crowley gulped. Gabriel could never know the truth of who had stabbed him. He wasn’t going to be responsible for a murder. Even if the victim had tried to murder him first. He had kind of deserved that.

“I’m sure he’ll turn up soon.” Aziraphale said. He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You should get some more sleep.”

“I feel like I’ve been asleep for ages.” But all that talking about things did take a lot out of him.

Aziraphale stood up and helped Crowley shift so he could lie down. He adjusted the covers, tucking Crowley in so tight he could barely move. Then he placed a gentle kiss to Crowley’s forehead. He pulled back and they stared at each other, both equally surprised by the show of affection.

“I’m sorry,” Aziraphale said, clearing his throat and standing up straight. 

Crowley blushed and slid down, hiding his face under the blanket. He remained under there even as Aziraphale turned off the lights and closed the door. He tried to curl up but the pain in his side stabbed at him and he straightened out. He really wished he had some drugs.

-

Gabriel did, eventually come home. But it was much later and Aziraphale was already asleep. He woke up with Gabriel, though, making sure he would be awake before Crowley. Gabriel was half dressed when Aziraphale shuffled into their dressing room.

“Good morning,” Gabriel greeted.

“Where were you last night?” Aziraphale asked. He didn’t mean to be accusatory, but it came out like that anyway.

“Work.”

Aziraphale huffed. “He woke up yesterday.” Gabriel looked over at him. “He doesn’t know who it was so you can call off the search.”

“He doesn’t know?”

“Said it was just some random drunk guy.” Aziraphale shrugged and started getting undressed.

“And you believe him?”

“Of course not. But we can’t force him to tell us.”

“Maybe you can’t but I’m sure I could.”

Aziraphale gave him a stern look. “Don’t you dare. You heard the doctor. He needs his rest and you going in there and yelling at him for information is not going to help him. I know you’re angry. I am too. But all we can do now is help him recover.”

“No. We can find who did that and return the favor.” There was a slight growl to Gabriel's voice and Aziraphale had to take a steadying breath.

“We don’t know who it was and we aren’t going to find out. So I really think it’s best if you just let it go.”

“I agree with Aziraphale.”

Gabriel and Aziraphale both startled and turned towards the door. Crowley was leaning against the door frame, smirk plastered on his face, arms crossed. His eyes were bouncing between the two of them, in different stages of undress.

“Crowley!” Aziraphale chided. He grabbed his shirt and held it over his body. He was one part worried that Crowley was walking around again, and even more flustered at being seen so revealed. Especially to Crowley. 

“Sorry. Heard some commotion. Wanted to come check on things.” His eyes settled on Gabriel, who had made no such effort to cover himself. He at least had his trousers on. 

The two made eye-contact and Aziraphale held his breath. Gabriel may have been the one to invite Crowley into his home but Aziraphale wouldn’t be surprised if this particular incident changed his mind. After all, the longer Crowley was in their house, the more likely this was to happen again. And next time it could be worse. Aziraphale could be completely naked. Or the two of them could be alone. Aziraphale blushed at the thought. 

“Feeling better, I see,” Gabriel said. He hadn’t shooed him out of the room.

Crowley shrugged. His eyes flicked back over to Aziraphale. “Starting to.”

“You really should be back in bed,” Aziraphale said, starting to worry at how not not okay Gabriel was with him standing there. Gabriel just sighed and went back to getting dressed.

“Don’t think I can walk. You’re gonna have to carry me.” Crowley smiled.

Aziraphale frowned.

“I can assist you with that,” Gabriel said, stepping towards him. 

“Suddenly it’s not that bad!” Crowley turned and left, Gabriel still following after him.

Aziraphale quickly tossed some clothes on and chased after them, worried that Gabriel might do or say something drastic.

He didn't.

They were sitting on the bed. Crowley was leaning to the side a bit, the bandages unwrapped and laid in a pile on the bed behind him. Gabriel was dabbing a medicated cloth over the wound on his side. 

“Oh! No let me! You have to get ready for work.” Aziraphale rushed forward. After all, he had offered to take care of Crowley. And cleaning his wound was part of that.

“It’s fine,” Gabriel said. “I have time.”

Crowley was looking away. His face was almost as red as his hair. Aziraphale sat on the other side of him, a little mesmerized. Crowley’s eyes were screwed shut, his body tense as Gabriel tended to him. But it didn’t look like an uncomfortable kind of tense. More like an embarrassed one.

Aziraphale placed a hand over Crowley's and mused over that. Something was different. He could tell. Gabriel had not tried to kill Crowley for his cheek with Aziraphale. And Crowley was accepting Gabriel’s help. Aziraphale wasn’t really sure what had made both of them mellow out. But he was glad for it. Made his life infinitely easier.


	19. Recovery

It wasn’t as weird as Crowley thought it would be. Granted, he did tend to overthink and expect the worse. But what happened as he recovered at Aziraphale and Gabriel’s house actually turned out to be the best. He got to spend the whole day with Aziraphale’s usually undivided attention, and when Gabriel came home he wasn’t as intimidating or angry as Crowley thought he would, or should, be. 

Sometimes Aziraphale would fall asleep in his chair next to the bed and Crowley would watch him, wondering what it would be like to see that face every night and every morning, a peaceful, cute, sleeping face. Then he would shake the thoughts from his head and reminded himself that that was not an option. No matter how bad he ached for it. 

“I hope you don’t mind,” Aziraphale said, one day as Bentley brought Crowley a tray of food for breakfast. (Crowley insisted he could get up and sit at a table, but Aziraphale was convinced he’d open his wound more, and commanded him to stay in bed). “I’ve asked Gabriel to keep an eye on you today.”

On cue, Gabriel filed into the room behind Aziraphale. 

“I’ve got some work to get done, you see,” Aziraphale said. 

“Right. Editing cookbooks,” Crowley said, smirking at him.

“What?” 

Crowley’s eyes slid over to Gabriel. Aziraphale followed his gaze. Gabriel’s eyebrows rose slightly at Aziraphale, and he nodded. 

“Ah, yes, editing...cookbooks,” Aziraphale said. He shook his head at Gabriel and left, Gabriel taking a seat in the chair by the bed.

Crowley huffed, ignoring the tray on the bedside table. “I don’t need someone to look after me,” he said. “I’m not a child.”

“Could have fooled me,” Gabriel said, a small smile on his face. If Crowley didn’t know any better, he would have called it fond.

But Crowley did know better so he crossed his arms, pouted, and slid down the headboard. If Gabriel wanted to believe he was a child then fine, he would be one.

“You should eat something,” Gabriel said, looking out the window. “Aziraphale would be awfully upset if you didn’t.”

Crowley grumbled. He did not want to do as Gabriel suggested, but more than that, he did not want Aziraphale upset with him. Not just because he would get that angry/hurt face. Crowley had found that Aziraphale’s worried words and actions could hit harder than any of Uriel’s smacks. He pulled the tray over and bit into the eggs with a growl.

Gabriel chuckled but did not look back, his attention focused on the tree outside the window. In a few days it would start to change colors. Crowley imagined it would look rather beautiful, all red and orange and yellow. Maybe if he could raise his arm without the stinging pain he would try to paint it. 

Gabriel made a small noise. It sounded a bit like he was thinking about talking, but not actually doing it. Crowley knew the feeling and the sound all too well.

“Something on your mind?” Not that he particularly cared.

Gabriel looked back at him, shaking his head. “No.”

Crowley bit back the comment about how there was probably never anything on his mind because he was empty headed. “You really don’t have to sit here all day. I’m not going anywhere. Go do something.

Gabriel’s head shook. “No. Aziraphale would be upset. He won’t be able to relax if you aren’t being looked after.”

Crowley frowned. The guy really did just do whatever Aziraphale wanted to make him happy, didn’t he. Which begs the question, “If you’re all about making Aziraphale relaxed, why do you drag him around to all these parties and stuff? Clearly he’s happier not being ignored. And you certainly seemed more at ease.” Until he punched Hastur. But Crowley was certainly trying very hard not to think about that.

“It’s not like I want him to go,” Gabriel said. Crowley squinted at him. “He insists on going.”

Crowley’s growing glare fell. “You’re lying. Who would willingly put themselves in that kind of situation.”

“An idiot,” Gabriel said. 

Crowley gasped. “Ohhh, I’m telling Aziraphale you called him an idiot!”

Gabriel smiled that not-fond smile again. “He knows that. Because he knows that wanting to go to those parties is idiotic.”

“So why do you let him?”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “Are you suggesting I order my husband around?”

Crowley opened his mouth but then snapped it shut. He could sense a trap coming. “Why does he go then?” he asked instead.

Gabriel took a deep breath, looking back out to the window on the exhale. “Aziraphale thinks that if he doesn’t go it’ll be worse.”

“Worse how?”

“I’m not sure. He’s convinced that by him not going people will just talk and speculate more.”

He wasn’t totally wrong. Crowley had been dragged around to enough parties, especially lately, to know where Aziraphale was coming from. If someone’s wife or husband wasn’t at a party, there was a million questions. And if the answer was anything other than ‘they’re sick’ then there was a million rumors. But crowley suspected no one would even notice if Aziraphale wasn’t there, as they certainly didn’t notice when he was.

“I’ve told him I’ll stay with him,” Gabriel continued. “But he still insists it’s worse if neither of us are there.”

That was even more accurate. Short of being on their deathbed, anyone who doesn’t go to an invited party in the rich world was practically digging their own graves. But it was starting to become clear to Crowley that Gabriel didn’t particularly care about that. Maybe he had at one point, or did a little bit still. But he was much more interested in Aziraphale’s happiness. Aziraphale was the one pushing for all of this. And Crowley wasn’t sure why. If he had a hot rich guy that would blow everyone off to hang out with him, he’d never turn that down.

Not that Gabriel was hot. 

“Have you tried lying?” Crowley asked. “I mean, I know you said you’re not a fan of it or whatever. But you could just, not tell him about them.”

“I tried. Unfortunately Bentley seems to be on his side. He always tells him about them. Can’t distract him from them either.”

“Clearly we need to have a talk with Bentley,” Crowley said. 

“Good luck.”

Gabriel turned his attention back to Crowley. There was something in his eyes that made Crowley want to help him. He wasn’t sure why. It must have just been the pity. Yeah. He pitied Gabriel. He was just trying to have a good marriage and make Aziraphale happy. Crowley could respect that.

“I think you should put your foot down,” Crowley said.

“Put my foot down?” Gabriel’s eyebrow rose again. 

“Yeah. He can’t force you to go to those parties anymore than you can force him. So next time just, don’t go. If he wants to go he can go alone.”

“He would,” Gabriel said. His face turned worried. “He can’t be out there alone.”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “I know he’s a softie, but he’s not completely defenseless. It’s not like someone’s going to openly attack him or anything.”

“They did once,” Gabriel said, looking down.

“What?”

“Before we moved here. Someone attacked him.”

Crowley jolted up. “Who the fuck?” His side not-so-kindly warned him that it was stabbed recently and he grabbed at it, finding each breath a little more difficult than the last. 

Gabriel stood up and grabbed his shoulders, pushing him back down. He moved Crowley’s hand and examined the bandages, making sure he wasn’t bleeding through them. 

“Who the fuck attacked him?” Crowley asked. He wanted names and he wanted weapons.

“It doesn’t matter,” Gabriel said, satisfied with Crowley’s wound and sitting back down. “It happened. It was dealt with.”

Crowley ignored the perk of interest he had at ‘it was dealt with’. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours?”

“I’m sorry?”

“You tell me who attacked Aziraphale and I’ll tell you who stabbed me.”

Gabriel frowned at him. “So you do know.”

“‘Course I know.”

“So tell me.”

“You first.”

They stared at each other, neither backing down. Crowley grabbed at the blankets around him, toying with them as he tried to be okay with the silence. Gabriel was stiff as a board, and about as unmoving. Even his chest seemed still as he breathed. 

“Ugh.” Crowley crossed his arms and looked away. Clearly he wasn’t getting anything from Gabriel. And he certainly wasn’t going to give up his information first. 

“Oh yes,” Gabriel said, getting up. “I almost forgot.” He walked out of the room and Crowley figured maybe he’d get the day off from constant surveillance. But Gabriel returned a few seconds later, holding a book in his hand. “I got you something.”

Crowley fought the blush that brought to his face as he reached out for it. There wasn’t anything on the cover, just a pretty design. He opened it, but the pages were blank.

“I couldn’t find a journal in your room at Michael and Uriel’s,” Gabriel explained, retaking his seat. “So I got you a new one. Figured you might want to work on your next novel while you were here.” He was smirking.

Crowley gulped. “Right. Yeah. That. ‘Course. Why wouldn’t I?” He put the journal down and fake yawned, stretching the arm that wouldn’t agitate his wound. “But boy, am I tired. I should really nap.” 

He slid down the covers and hid himself under them. He heard Gabriel chuckle but thankfully he didn’t say anything more about it. Crowley did close his eyes. It would be easier to sleep the day away. But something was nagging at the back of his head.

“You guys should throw your own parties,” he mumbled.

“I didn’t know you talked in your sleep,” Gabriel said.

Crowley tossed the blanket down, blinking at the light. “I think he likes it. You should only invite cool people, and let everyone else overthink why they weren't invited to the party of the century.”

“And who, exactly do you suggest we invite? Not many cool people around here.”

“Well there’s me,” Crowley said. “And Michael and Uriel, but don’t you dare tell them I said that.”

“Quite the little party we have,” Gabriel said. 

“There’s got to be some people you know who aren’t total losers. I don’t know, like a really crazy cousin or an old coworker that knows a lot of people.”

Gabriel shook his head.

“Whatever. I still think you should.”

Crowley settled back down against the pillows and stared at Gabriel, who had turned his attention back to the window. Crowley felt unusually hot. All he could think about was the other day, when Gabriel had cleaned his wound up for him. He had practically forced himself onto the bed and was removing the wrappings before Crowley could say anything.

He had been expecting a rather harsh time of it, Gabriel agitating the wound as a way to punish Crowley for taking in the sights. (And what sights they were). But Gabriel had been rather soft. His touches had been, dare he say, tender. And his fingers had been warm, touching across Crowley's skin. 

Crowley blushed at the memory and slid back down under the covers. It was certainly a day to sleep instead of think.

-

The doctor had warned them that Crowley would be sleeping a lot, especially in the first few weeks of recovery. It was the bodies natural way of healing itself. It was actually a blessing. Crowley got his rest, and Aziraphale got to write. He sat next to the bed, journal on his lap, and wrote. He had finally figured out how to end the next book and the words came easily.

“Dear diary,” Crowley said, his voice slurred with sleep. “I love Gabriel so much. He’s just the hottest guy at the ball.”

Aziraphale smiled and closed the journal. “Have a nice nap?”

Crowley nodded. “Could I get something to drink?”

“Of course.”

Aziraphale got up and placed his journal on the dresser by the door, away from Crowley’s curious eyes. He went downstairs and got Crowley a cup of ginger tea and some water since he continued to insist on being a child about the taste of the tea. 

He nearly dropped both cups when he returned to the room. Crowley was sitting on the bed, holding his side with one hand, and perusing through the journal with the other. Aziraphale put the drinks down and snatched the journal out of Crowley’s hands, holding it close to his chest. 

A beat of silence passed.

“Uh,” Crowley said. He looked up at Aziraphale. 

Aziraphale had to think about how he should react. Crowley was pretending to be A.Z. Fell. And he had just found Aziraphale writing stories about them. Therefor, Aziraphale should be embarrassed.

“Just something to pass the time,” he said. 

Crowley stared at him, unblinking. “You’re him aren’t you?”

Aziraphale gulped and nodded. He didn’t know why he was so nervous for Crowley to find out. He knew it wasn’t like Crowley would tell anyone. But what would Crowley think? Knowing that Aziraphale wrote such things? Had kept it from him for so long?

“Right.” Crowley laid down and pulled the covers over his body and head, hiding. “If you need me I’ll be dead.”

“Oh dear.” Aziraphale leaned over and tried to pull the covers away, but Crowley kept a tight hold. He sat on the edge of the bed and placed a hand on Crowley’s body. “It’s really alright.”

Crowley’s head shook under the covers. “Why didn’t you say anything?” He was hissing slightly with each word. 

“I was worried...well I was worried you might, well, that you might do something.”

“Do something?”

“Well, I didn’t know you all that well. So I figured if you know I was the author, you might do something stupid, like you’re known to do.”

Crowley tossed the covers down, staring at Aziraphale with a beat red face. “Why did you let me go on like I was you?” he asked.

“Oh, well, it was rather funny.”

Crowley frowned and pulled the covers back over his face. Aziraphale laughed and sat further up, pulling them down. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, dear. It’s quite the compliment, rather.”

Crowley pressed further into his bed, trying to hide. But Aziraphale wasn’t going to let him do that. They were friends, and friend’s were open and honest with one another. Crowley looked to the side. “It’s dumb,” he said. “I just...I talked about them so much.” His eyes screwed shut.

“I enjoyed that, actually. I don’t get to meet many fans, you know. It’s nice to hear what people like, what they think.”

Crowley’s face was still flushed, but it had calmed down a bit. “Why the secrecy?” he sat up a bit. “Aziraphale, did you ever think maybe these snooty bitches will actually talk to you?”

“Of course not! Crowley! You’ve read those books. That’s the last thing that’s going to make them like me.”

“Those books are crazy popular,” Crowley argued. “You never know who might like them. Uriel for instance.”

Uriel liked his books? Aziraphale smiled. Then he shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. For every one that does like them, there's two that won’t. And they tend to be louder. It’s best to just keep quiet and avoid attention.”

Crowley squinted at him. 

“What?” Aziraphale asked.

“Keep quiet and avoid attention?”

“Yes.”

Crowley huffed at him. “You really are an idiot. Living like that isn’t going to make anything better. You can’t just sit back and take this kind of abuse. You gotta fight back.”

“But I…” Aziraphale sighed. He couldn’t bring himself to say it. 

“You don’t deserve this, Aziraphale,” Crowley said, reading his mind. And oh how he wanted to believe him. But he did deserve it. He made the choice to leave Gabriel and run off with that man. He made the decision to run back home. He made the choice to still marry Gabriel, putting unnecessary stress on him because Aziraphale was afraid of what would happen otherwise.

“Hey.” Crowley sat up more, face level with Aziraphale’s. And very, very close. “You don’t deserve it.” And there was such a truthfulness in his eyes. Aziraphale almost believed him. Crowley’s hand came up, resting warm against Aziraphale’s cheek. “You deserve happiness,” Crowley continued, face even closer now. “And fuck everyone else.”

Crowley’s head tilted. Aziraphale knew that tilt. He didn’t move away. But Crowley didn’t move closer. He was waiting, eyes searching over Aziraphale’s face. Aziraphale’s mouth was dry. He couldn’t. No. He was married. To Gabriel. He couldn’t kiss Crowley. No matter how warm he was, or how enticing his lips looked, of how very much he wanted to. 

Their lips touched, every so softly. Aziraphale felt a shiver run down his spine. He was hot and cold at the same time. And he wanted more. He pressed forward, increasing the pressure of Crowley’s lips against his, closing his eyes so he could enjoy the sensations. 

Then the door to the room opened and Aziraphale jumped back, standing up and feeling his heart beat wildly in his chest. He shook. He knew it was too early in the day for Gabriel to be home, but that’s all he expected to see when he turned. 

Thankfully it wasn’t Gabriel. It was Uriel, who was staring at them with a wide gaze. Aziraphale really wasn’t sure what to say. How much had she seen? Apparently a lot, judging by the way she was looking at them, shocked smile on her face. 

“Well, I should...get to work.” 

Aziraphale held his journal to his chest and rushed out of the room, Uriel stepping out of his way. He hurried to his room and shut the door behind him. He couldn’t stop feeling the flutter of his heart against his chest. 

He had kissed Crowley. And he had liked it. He slid down to the floor, sitting against the door. What was he going to do? It was going to be much harder to ignore his feelings for Crowley now that he knew what it felt like. He bit his lip. He couldn’t kick Crowley out. He didn’t want to. He hugged his knees to his chest. 

He had to tell Gabriel. He couldn’t lie to him anymore. But what would happen if he did? Gabriel wouldn’t hesitate to kick Crowley out. And where would that leave them? Would Gabriel divorce him? Leaving him alone? Or would he insist everything was fine and go back to sleeping in his office.

No. Aziraphale couldn’t let any of that happen. Just one more lie, he told himself. Just this last one. He would talk to Crowley. It was a mistake, it wouldn’t happen again, and Gabriel would not find out. It was the only option.


	20. Getting Even

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't do drugs kids. Crowley is a dumb

Crowley had said nothing about the kiss. And Aziraphale was equally happy and disappointed. He had expected Crowley to tease him about it, to hold it over him, to make jokes about telling Gabriel or something. He had been prepared for that. Had expected it. Had maybe looked forward to it. But Crowley acted as if it had never happened. Which was what Aziraphale wanted. So, really, it was a good thing.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Aziraphale asked, he had one arm around Crowley’s waist, Crowley’s arm over his shoulders, leaning against him as they walked down the hall.

“I’m fine,” Crowley said. “I can walk on my own, you know?”

“I still don’t think you should be walking at all.” Aziraphale had to catch himself before he started calling Crowley dear again. He figured he had just been letting himself get too friendly with him. That’s why it had happened, so he would be more reserved going on.

“You heard the doctor,” Crowley said, wincing a bit as they started to descend the stairs. “If I don’t walk around and move and stuff I’ll turn into a living skeleton.” He winced again, free hand going down to cover his side where the wound was.

Aziraphale tutted at him. “But really. You’re in pain. You shouldn’t be agitating it.”

“I’m only in pain because you refuse to drug me,” Crowley said.

Aziraphale glared at him. “Natural remedies are better. They’ve worked for thousands of years you’re just being stubborn.”

“Right, right, sure.” 

They entered the dining room and Aziraphale helped Crowley into his seat, food already waiting for them on the table. Crowley looked at where Gabriel would sit as Aziraphale sat across from him. 

“How does he stand waking up so early?” Crowley asked. “If I did that everyday I’d probably die.”

“If you did that every day you’d get used to it,” Aziraphale told him. He laid his napkin on his lap and started to eat. “Now eat your food.”

Crowley grumbled but did as he was instructed. Aziraphale smiled. This was nice. He liked having someone to eat breakfast with. And eating it at the table instead of his desk or in the room was even better. He wished he could do that with Gabriel everyday but he wasn’t convinced himself that he’d get used to waking up that early.

“So, you guys been married six years?” Crowley asked, rather suddenly, mouth half full.

“Chew your food and swallow before speaking,” Aziraphale said. Just to ignore the question.

Crowley opened his mouth, “So you guys married six years?” he asked, chewing loudly on his food as he did.

Aziraphale shook his head at him. He hoped that by answering his question Crowley would suddenly grow better table manners. “Yes.”

Crowley did finish his bite, thankfully. But he didn’t stop talking. “So you were in that other town for five or so years?”

“Four and a half,” Aziraphale said. He took a large bite of toast, chewing slowly so he couldn’t answer anymore questions.

Crowley placed an elbow on the table and leaned his chin on his hand. “So you moved here when that guy attacked you?”

Aziraphale startled and spit half his toast back out on his plate, choking a bit. He grabbed his tea and gulped at it, trying to calm him coughs. Crowley only stared at him. “You-you know about that?” He had purposefully left it out of his story.

“Oh yeah.” Crowley leaned back, wincing slightly as he stretched. “Gabriel told me all about it.”

Aziraphale cleared his throat, finally calming his breath, if not his heart. “He did?” He didn’t think that was the kind of thing Gabriel would say.

“Of course.” Crowley took another bite, continuing to talk as he chewed. “He didn’t give me all the details as to how it was ‘dealt with’. But I’m starting to suspect murder.”

Aziraphale smiled a bit. Crowley really was a fan of violence. But Aziraphale thought the way that it was handled was much more alluring than violence. “Well, murdered in a sense.”

Crowley dropped his silverware and leaned forward, elbows on the table. His eyes were wide and attentive, waiting.

Aziraphale took a sip of tea. “Elbows off the table, dear,” he said. He didn’t even realize he had said dear. It was just second nature at this point. Crowley complied, sitting back, still waiting. “Gabriel’s a lawyer, you know. He does a lot of insurance things but, well, he’s really quite knowledgeable.”

Crowley furrowed his eyebrows. “What did he do?”

“He ruined them, of course.” Aziraphale tried not to smile. He hadn’t entirely approved, thought it was a bit of an overreaction, but it still was impressive. “He found out everything about them and went after them no matter how small the infraction was. Eventually their family got tired of the time and money spent on it all, and they...well, I’m not sure where they went. But they did leave.”

“Wow. You know, I was hoping for a little more physical intervention, but alright.” Crowley shrugged.

“Really, now. Not everyone needs to get stabbed to learn a lesson.” Aziraphale sighed. “At least I hope you did learn a lesson.”

“What lesson is there to learn from a random drunk guy stabbing me?”

Aziraphale gave him a look. Gabriel had told him that Crowley told him that he knew who it was that stabbed him. He had said it in an attempt to get Aziraphale to agree to let him interrogate Crowley for information. But clearly Crowley was going to go on pretending. 

“Well, I would hope you’d learn not to just run out on your friends in the middle of the night.”

Crowley blushed and slid down in his seat. “It wasn’t the middle of the night,” he argued. 

Aziraphale felt himself blushing as well, but he bit his lip trying to fight it. He had been right. Ignoring the kiss with Crowley was only making things worse. Every time he helped him change his bandages or get adjusted in bed, any time he touched Crowley really, all he could think about was that kiss. And how good it had felt, and how badly he wanted to do it again.

Aziraphale tried to convince himself that it was just the difference of Crowley that attracted him to him. Aziraphale spent the majority of his life with people like Gabriel. Repressed, emotionless, cold. Not that Gabriel didn’t have the capacity to be warm and loving, he just had trouble with it. 

But Crowley wasn’t like that. He was crazy, and chaotic. He acted on impulse and did stupid things because he felt his emotions so fully he couldn’t stand it. Aziraphale was attracted to that. Had always been attracted to that. It was why he had been drawn to that gentleman’s club in the first place. Maybe it was because he wanted to be like that. Either way, Crowley was something he wanted. But couldn’t have.

“You alright?” Crowley asked. Aziraphale realized he hadn’t said anything in a while.

“Oh. Oh yes. I’m fine, thank you. Actually,” he tapped his finger against the table, “might I be able to ask you a question.”

Crowley shrugged. “Sure.”

“Why did you kiss me the other day?”

Crowley smirked. “Uh, I didn’t.” Aziraphale opened his mouth to argue but Crowley continued. “You kissed me.”

Aziraphale huffed. Yes, technically he had kissed him. “But you initiated it!”

“Did I?” Crowley’s smirk widened. 

Aziraphale frowned at him because yes, yes he did. He had leaned closer, had placed his hand on Aziraphale’s cheek, had tilted his head. Aziraphale knew a request for a kiss when he saw it. So what if he had given in to that request? He would have had to if it wasn’t asked of him.

Crowley laughed, his chuckles breaking up Aziraphale’s thoughts. “You think too much,” he said. “It was just a kiss.” He shrugged. “Don’t think too much about it.”

“Don’t think too much about it?” Aziraphale asked. “Who are you and what have you done with Crowley?”

Crowley laughed again. “Ah, who knows. Maybe I did learn a thing or two.”

-

Crowley most certainly did not learn a thing or two. The only thing he learned was how to be a better actor. Obviously it wasn’t just a kiss. It was the best goddamn kiss he ever had in his life. But he wasn’t a complete idiot, despite what everyone believed of him. He was dumb, but not an idiot.

If he played up the kiss like it was, he’d lose Aziraphale for good. He knew that. He had actually been quite worried that Aziraphale would do something stupid and tell Gabriel. But he hadn’t, and Crowley wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He was going to sit all day and dream about the kiss but that was it.

And oh what dreams he could have. Aziraphale’s lips had been as perfect as he imagined. All plump and round and soft and warm. It had been the most perfect kiss in all of creation and had he not been wounded he would have murdered Uriel for showing up when she did. 

But she had made it up to him. She happened to be close, personal friends with the doctor, and had gone down on Crowley’s behalf to get him the good medicine that Aziraphale had refused for him. He couldn’t use it right away, obviously. Not with Aziraphale hovering as he did. (Granted, he was never going to complain about being around Aziraphale. Although he was never going to talk about the books to him ever again). 

But then he finally got his chance. 

“I trust the two of you to behave yourselves,” Aziraphale warned, arms crossed in the doorway. 

He had to go to London to turn in the manuscript for his newest book. And no, he had not agreed to let Crowley read it early. Michael and Uriel were going there for something or another (Crowley couldn’t remember) so he was going to travel with them, leaving Crowley in the capable care of Gabriel. 

“We’ll be fine,” Crowley assured him. “Don’t worry.”

“I’ll be back tonight,” he said, as if another warning. “I expect both of you in one piece.”

“It’ll be alright,” Gabriel assured him. “Have fun.”

Aziraphale gave them both a hard stare and then huffed before leaving. Really, what did he think the two of them were going to do?

“Alright,” Crowley said, once he heard the door shut downstairs. “He’s gone you can leave now.”

“Leave?” Gabriel asked. He cocked an eyebrow in a way that Crowley most certainly wasn’t coming to find adorable.

“Yeah. Look, I’m basically fine.” He raised his left arm, biting the inside of his cheek so he wouldn’t wince at the totally fine amount of pain. “I don’t need constant surveillance. You’ve got the day off so go take it off. Do whatever it is you do on your down time.”

Gabriel shrugged. “I usually do whatever Aziraphale wants to do.”

“Wow. So you just have, what, no personality at all?”

Gabriel frowned at him. Crowley sighed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He needed Gabriel to leave. He would tell Aziraphale for sure if he knew. 

“Look, just, I’m fine. You don’t have to sit there all day. Go read or something. Or, I don’t know, knit.”

“Knit?”

“Sure! Yeah, it’s fun. Very relaxing.” Gabriel gave him a skeptical look. Crowley groaned. “You’re free! No work, no Aziraphale. You can do whatever you want!”

“What if I want to sit here with you all day?”

Crowley scoffed. “Sure. That’ll be the day.”

Gabriel stood up, hands on his hips, looking down at Crowley. “You’re not planning to leave, are you?”

“What? Why would you think that?”

“Aziraphale will never forgive you if you do.”

“Is that why he’s been hovering?” Crowley sat up, leaning against the headboard so he didn’t have to look so far up to see Gabriel. “He’s worried I’m going to run away?”

“You did once,” Gabriel pointed out. 

“Yeah, and it didn’t end well.” Crowley sighed, running a hand down his face. “Look, I’m not going to leave, alright? So you can go off and do whatever you’d like, and I’ll be right here when he gets back. Okay?”

Gabriel stared at him, eyes squinted a bit, making a judgement call. Granted, he didn’t have much faith to go on. Crowley wouldn’t trust himself either. But he relented, nodding. “I’ll be in to check on you,” he said.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m fine.”

Crowley smiled as Gabriel left. Once he heard him reach down stairs, Crowley turned over and reached under the mattress for the bottle Uriel had given him. He glanced at the directions and then knocked back a gulp. He slid the bottle back under and laid down. 

A few minutes later and he felt it kick in; the fog in his brain, the relaxation of his muscles, the warmth spreading through his nerves. Oh yeah. That was better. Pain, what pain? He could punch through a wall if he wanted to. Not that he wanted to. Cause he eyelids were getting heavy and he was just too comfortable to think.

A thumb and finger pulled his eyelid open. “He looks drugged,” a familiar, deep voice said.

“What?” a familiar, light voice asked.

The finger and thumb left, letting Crowley try to return to his slumber. 

“How did he get it?” the light voice asked. 

“I don’t know. I didn’t give it to him.”

“I wasn’t suggesting that.”

Clearly, the voices were not going to leave. Crowley forced his eyes open. Gabriel was sitting on the bed next to him and Aziraphale was standing a bit away, wringing his hands together. “He guysssss,” Crowley said. His jaw felt pretty loose, and it was hard to talk right.

“Crowley! Oh thank goodness! What on earth did you take?” Aziraphale stepped closer, standing right next to Gabriel.

“The good shit,” Crowley said, smiling. Because he certainly did feel good. No pain to speak of.

“Where did you get it?” Aziraphale asked.

“And where is the rest of it?” Gabriel asked. “If you didn’t just take it all right away?”

“I didn’t” Crowley hissed. 

“Where is it, Crowley?” Aziraphale demanded. 

Crowley laughed. “‘M not an idiot.”

“Clearly you must be to do something so stupid!” Aziraphale took a step closer but Gabriel held an arm out, keeping him back. 

“Let’s keep a level head,” Gabriel suggested.

“Yeah, dude,” Crowley said. “Chill.”

Aziraphale huffed, his face red, his eyes ablaze with anger. He crossed his arms and started to pace the room.

“I kissed him, you know,” Crowley said, placing his hands on Gabriel’s leg. Gabriel gave him one of those cute little eyebrow raises of his. Aziraphale gasped and hissed out Crowley’s name.

Crowley sat up, grabbing at Gabriel’s clothes to pull himself closer, until his arms were loosely wrapped around Gabriel’s neck. “I kissed your husband.” His words slurred together but he was sure they still made sense. “But is okay, is okay.” He pulled himself even closer, practically sitting in Gabriel’s lap. “Cause, cause I’m gonna...gonna even it out.”

Clearly, the only logical way to make up for kissing Aziraphale was to kiss Gabriel. He placed his lips against Gabriel’s. Just a quick one, he told himself. But oh how warm Gabriel was. He tightened his grip, deepening the kiss. Not as good as Aziraphale, of course, but still pretty damn impressive.

Hands touched his chest, pushing him away. Gentle, but firm. Crowley frowned, letting himself be pushed from the kiss. Gabriel was staring at him with a strange expression. When Crowley glanced at Aziraphale, he had a similar one.

“What?” Crowley asked. “Now we’re even.” He shrugged, his head lulling to the side.

The hands on his chest were pushing him back to a horizontal position. “I think it’s best you get back to sleep,” Gabriel said.

“He’s been asleep all day,” Aziraphale argued. “And we still don’t know where the medicine is.”

Crowley let Gabriel tuck him in, snuggling himself into the warmth of the blankets, eyes closing instantly. 

“He’s going to be no use like this,” Gabriel said. He stood up, and Crowley grumbled at the loss of his pressure on the bed. “Let’s let him work through whatever he’s got and when he’s sober we’ll properly interrogate him.”

Aziraphale huffed. “I can’t believe he would do such a thing?”

“Really? You can’t believe that he would do this?”

“Hey,” Crowley said. He tried to open his eyes but he really was just overly tired. Best part about medicine, really, was all the sleep.

There was a pressure on the bed again and a hand grabbing his shirt. “You listen to me,” Aziraphale said. His voice was different and Crowley forced his eyes to open. Aziraphale’s face was level with his, still just as angry as before. “You are in very big trouble. Now, if you tell me where the rest of it is, I might just have mercy on you tomorrow!”

Crowley gulped. “Sunder the mattress,” he said.

“Thank you.”

Aziraphale released him and got up. He reached under the mattress and looked about until he found the bottle, pulling it out. He gave Crowley a hard stare and then left, Gabriel close behind.

Crowley sighed and closed his eyes again. He knew he’d probably feel all kinds of regret in the morning. But at that moment all he knew was that he wasn’t in pain.


	21. Repercussions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this may be the longest I've gone between posting chapters 🤔 (I say as if posting a chapter a day is *normal*)  
Thank you all for your continued support for these complete buffoons, these absolute idiots, these darn dumbasses that have never even SEEN a brain cell.  
Your patience shall soon be rewarded 👀👀👀

It was quiet in their bedroom. Aziraphale tapped his fingers against his chest, worrying. Gabriel had not said much since the incident with Crowley earlier. But he also hadn’t gone to sleep in his office. So that was an improvement. 

Aziraphale turned his head to look at Gabriel. He met his eyes and jerked his attention back to the ceiling. He hoped that even though Gabriel had been staring right at him, he hadn’t noticed Aziraphale looking. 

Gabriel chuckled, discounting that theory. “Aziraphale, it’s okay.”

That was not what Aziraphale had been expecting to hear. He looked back over, finding that Gabriel’s expression was soft. “Y-you aren’t mad?”

Gabriel gave a half-hearted shrug. “I’m a little disappointed you didn’t tell me, but no, I’m not mad.”

“Well. If I had known that I would have told you.” Aziraphale had, after all, wanted to tell him. It was just oh so very complicated. 

Gabriel shifted, turning to lay on his side and stare more at Aziraphale. “You remember what I said? About sharing?”

Aziraphale’s eyes opened wide. _Oh_. That had been what he meant. “Out of the question!” He rolled onto his side as well, back facing Gabriel, and pulled the covers up to his chin. To think. The very thought. Kissing both of them? It was outrageous.

Gabriel slid forward, his arms wrapping around Aziraphale’s waist and pulling him back. This was new. They had never held each other like this before. Aziraphale placed his hands on Gabriel’s arms. They were warm.

Gabriel kissed the back of Aziraphale’s neck. “This isn’t like before,” he whispered. “You aren’t leaving me.”

“I’m not,” Aziraphale said. He hugged Gabriel’s arms tighter. “Never.”

“And that doesn’t mean you can’t also be with Crowley.”

“This is ridiculous. You’re ridiculous. We are not having this conversation!”

Gabriel smiled against Aziraphale’s skin. “Alright.”

Aziraphale huffed and settled back against Gabriel, enjoying the closeness this position provided. Gabriel was absolutely out of his mind. They were married. They had made vows. Didn’t Gabriel care about any of that?

“What if I’m mad that he kissed you?” Aziraphale asked. 

“Are you?” Gabriel asked.

“I have a right to be.”

“You do. But are you?”

Aziraphale gripped the blanket, wringing it out before him in worry. Because he wasn’t mad. Not even in the slightest. Confused and surprised, of course. But Crowley wasn’t exactly himself there. After all, he wouldn’t normally go around kissing Gabriel. Of that Aziraphale was sure. But seeing them kiss had been…

“Aziraphale?” Gabriel nudged his nose against the back of Aziraphale’s head. “Are you mad?”

Aziraphale sighed. “No. I suppose I’m not. But it’d be nice to think that I could be!”

“You’re right. Next time Crowley kisses me I’ll be sure to assume you’re mad.”

“You’d better because there will not be a next time.” Aziraphale dropped the blanket and crossed his arms. 

Gabriel kissed his shoulder. “Of course.”

Aziraphale opened his mouth but he didn’t say it. He figured it would be a good time to do it. To admit to the biggest lie of their marriage yet, bigger than Crowley and his kisses. But everything was still so confusing and Gabriel was in the business of talking nonsense so Aziraphale decided maybe he’d wait for things to calm down before bringing it up.

The problem was he had been waiting for things to calm down forever. He certainly could not have brought it up back in their old home town. It had gotten better when they moved here, and Aziraphale had almost admitted it. Then Crowley showed up and things were back to being hectic. 

Aziraphale turned around in Gabriel’s arms and snuggled up against his chest. Maybe there was a way he could say it without words…

The next morning he woke up and cursed himself when he saw that Gabriel was already out of bed. He hurriedly got dressed and raced downstairs only to catch Gabriel as he was putting on his jacket by the door.

Aziraphale sighed, hanging his head a bit as he reached the landing.

“Morning,” Gabriel said.

“Morning.” Aziraphale frowned. He had meant to have breakfast with Gabriel, was going to try and make it his routine. But he was just too used to sleeping in late. 

“Everything okay?” Gabriel asked. He smoothed his clothes down and looked Aziraphale over. 

“Yes. I’m just,” there was no need to embarrass himself by saying the truth, “worried about how to deal with the trouble maker.”

“Would you like me to stay home and help?”

“Oh. Oh, no. Thank you though, that’s very sweet.” Aziraphale stepped up to him and wrapped his arms around Gabriel’s neck. “You go have a good day at work.” He leaned in and they kissed. “I’ll be alright.”

“Okay.” 

Gabriel pulled back but Aziraphale didn’t let go. _Just say it_.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” Gabriel asked, a small smile forming on his lips.

“Yes. I’m sure. I just…” Aziraphale hugged Gabriel and deflated against his chest. He was never going to be able to admit it, was he?

Gabriel hugged him back. “I told you, you don’t have to worry about either of the kisses.”

Aziraphale nodded. He wasn’t terribly worried about them anyway. He took a deep breath and let go, stepping back. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Gabriel picked up his bag and smiled, looking Aziraphale over a little wary. “See you.”

-

Crowley woke up with the headache he knew he was going to have. He rolled onto his side and reached under the mattress. But no amount of searching about was producing the bottle he had put there. He woke slowly, fingers still feeling about, just in case. He leaned over and looked at the floor. Maybe it had fallen? Had rolled under the bed? 

He grabbed the edge of the mattress and slid forward, until his head was hanging over the bed. His sight was a little blurry but he didn’t see any bottle under the bed, either.

“Good Morning.” 

It wasn’t Aziraphale’s voice that brought Crowley’s head back up. It was Bentley, carrying a tray with a plate of food and some tea on it. 

“Master Aziraphale figured you wouldn’t be up to getting out of bed.” He placed the tray on the table.

“Where is Aziraphale?” Crowley asked. 

“He’s downstairs. I do believe he’s catching up on some reading.” Bentley gave Crowley a look and then left.

Crowley groaned and fell back against the bed. Great. Aziraphale had found the medicine. So not only did Crowley not have it to help with both his headache and the pain in his side, but now he also had Azirapahle mad at him. What a day.

Crowley rolled to his feet, stumbling and grabbing for the table as the pain hit him. He chugged down the tea, shivering at the taste, feeling like he might actually throw up. He couldn’t easily get rid of the pain, but at least he could try to fix things with Aziraphale.

He grabbed his side, noticing how the bandage was already fresh. He blinked at it. Because he didn’t remember waking up earlier and having it changed. He didn’t think it was particularly easy for someone to change it when he was asleep, especially not without waking him up. But he had been in a pretty deep sleep. So he wouldn’t doubt it.

Crowley stumbled his way downstairs. Aziraphale was in the drawing-room, sitting on one of the couches, reading. He didn’t even react as Crowley stepped into the room.

“Uh, hi?” Crowley said. Still nothing. “Silent treatment, eh?”

Crowley pursed his lips. Well, not like he could get in that much more trouble. He sat on the couch next to Aziraphale and laid down, muscling his way to Aziraphale’s lap.

“What are you doing?” Aziraphale asked, standing up. 

Only standing up pushed Crowley forward. And he didn’t have the muscle strength to stop himself from just rolling onto the floor, landing on his arm, elbow digging into his wound. “Ow.”

“Oh, dear! I’m sorry!” Aziraphale bent down and helped Crowley to his feet, sitting him back down on the couch. He pulled Crowley’s arm away, examining the bandage.

“Why does everyone insist on physically attacking me when they’re mad?” Crowley asked.

“To be fair,” Aziraphale lowered Crowley’s arm and picked up his book, “you did just try to lay on my lap.”

Crowley frowned, watching Aziraphale move to the other couch to sit down. “I’m in pain,” he whined. “Is it really too much to ask for a little bit of comfort?”

Aziraphale fixed him with a hard gaze. “Well, I’m sure you got plenty of that yesterday.”

Crowley grimaced and shrank down in his seat. “How, uh, how’d you find it?”

“You told me.” Aziraphale opened his book and studied the page before him.

Crowley squinted and thought about yesterday. He remembered sleeping a lot. And that was pretty much it. He must have woken up at some point. But he didn’t recall.

“I don’t suppose there’s a way to get it back, huh?” Aziraphale glared at him over the top of the book and Crowley gulped. “Yeah. Didn’t think so.”

He sat there, listening to the silence of Aziraphale slowly flipping pages. He glanced at his stuff on the table. Aziraphale had set him up with some reading and drawing materials down there for when he was strong enough to sit. But none of what he looked at seemed interesting. He just wanted to take more medicine and pass out again. What was so wrong about that?

“You’re not my dad you know,” Crowley mumbled. “Or Michael. You can’t tell me what to do”

Aziraphale closed the book and looked at Crowley, who crossed his arms and looked away. “I’m not telling you what to do,” he said.

“Telling me what not to do.”

“I’m not-” Aziraphale huffed,” I’m not telling you what not to do. I’m just saying that while you’re here you won’t be having them because it’s not good for you.”

Crowley scoffed. “Fine. Then I’ll go somewhere where I can.” He stood up and stormed to the steps. As if Aziraphale really knew what was good for him.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale called after him.

Crowley let the anger in him fuel his movements, adrenaline blocking the pain. He was an adult. He could do whatever he damn well pleased and he wasn’t going to have anyone going around telling him how to live his life.

“What are you doing?” Aziraphale asked, chasing him into the bedroom.

“I’m going to Michael’s.” Crowley picked up his suitcase and tossed it on the bed, popping it open. 

“You are not!” Aziraphale said. He tried to grab Crowley’s arm but Crowley spun out of the way.

He opened a drawer and pulled out a pile of clothes. “I sure am. You can’t stop me. You don’t own me.”

“I’m not trying to say that I do!” Aziraphale watched Crowley dump the clothes in the case before he grabbed them out again, taking them back to the drawer and Crowley went to another one. 

“Well, you sure act like it.” 

Crowley dumped another pile of clothes in the case and went back for the first pile Aziraphale had taken out. When he turned back around he smacked into Aziraphale, who was taking out the other pile, his hands digging, of course, right into Crowley’s bad side.

No amount of Adrenaline was going to cover up the pain that had caused. 

“I’m so sorry!” Aziraphale said as Crowley crawled on the bed, holding the pile of clothes to his side. “I didn’t mean to!”

“Yep,” Crowley croaked out. He fell forward, his face digging into the mattress, his knees still curled up, compressing the wound. “Ya know. Some medicine would be really great right about now.”

Aziraphale sighed. He moved the case to the floor and sat down next to Crowley. “I’m sorry. If...if you want to go that’s fine. I just can’t stand the thought of you ruining yourself like that.”

“Ruining myself?” Crowley could not actually lift his face, so he talked against the sheets, drooling a bit.

“Yes. I know this stuff makes you feel better but I’ve seen it destroy people as well. And I wouldn’t want that to happen to you.”

“Why?”

“Because I care about you, obviously.”

Crowley groaned, the pain not just in his side but now in his soul. “You shouldn’t,” he mumbled.

“Shouldn’t what?”

“Care about me.”

Aziraphale sounded thoroughly offended. “Why ever not?”

Because I’m terrible, Crowley thought. Cause I’m a disaster who’s never going to have his life together and I can’t be satisfied just being your friend which makes me even more of a jerk and you only ever deserve people that will make your life easier, not worse. Crowley didn’t say any of that, of course.

“Alright. Come on.” Aziraphale grabbed Crowley’s hips and pulled him up, supporting him as they stood. 

Crowley didn’t say anything as Aziraphale walked him back downstairs. He didn’t know what else to say. He acted out in a fit of passion as he always did. Which was exactly why he needed to remove himself from Aziraphale’s life. Aziraphale deserved peace. 

Aziraphale sat Crowley down on the couch and then disappeared. Crowley juggled the options in his head. If his stomach wasn’t currently trying to murder him he might have decided to just make a run for it. 

When Azirapahle returned he was carrying a spoon that had a familiar liquid in it. “Here.” He held it up to Crowley’s lips. “This is a normal dose,” he continued. “And it’s all you get today, understand?”

Crowley nodded and opened his mouth, drinking the spoonful from Aziraphale. Aziraphale nodded and left to return the spoon. Then he picked up his book and sat on the couch next to Crowley.

Crowley felt himself blush. He waited for the medicine to kick in, hoping it would knock him out so he wouldn’t have to deal with his emotions. It did start to work, loosening his muscles and taking the edge off the pain. But it didn’t even come close to making him sleep. He growled and leaned his head on Aziraphale’s shoulder. 

Aziraphale tensed under him but didn’t move or push him to the floor. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Crowley blinked because why the _fuck_ was Aziraphale always apologizing for nothing? 

“I didn’t mean to try and control you,” Aziraphale continued. Crowley screwed his eyes shut, begging for the sweet, sweet relief of being unconscious. “I just want you to be happy and healthy. And I’m sorry if I took it too far and unintentionally caused you more pain.”

Crowley grumbled. “It’s fine,” he said, drawing out the word.

He’s never really had someone who only wanted him to be happy and healthy. Certainly not his father. Michael and Uriel did, but it was different. They more like his mothers, more of an overbearing figure of authority trying to keep him from getting in trouble. Aziraphale genuinely cared for him and wanted not just what was best, but what would make him happy. 

And Crowley didn’t know how to handle that. He didn’t want to lose that by leaving. But how could he stand to have it without having it fully? 

He groaned and turned, burying his face in Aziraphale’s arm. At least he had this. And this, he figured, was pretty good.


	22. Christmas Cheer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is this? Is this...feelings????  
I didn't *want* to do a timeskip through fall but I couldn't think of anything that would move the plot/character development along. Which sucks cause Fall is my favorite   
ANd you guys. You all are my favorites

Crowley knew that he was in trouble when he hurriedly closed the door. Aziraphale was standing in the hall, arms crossed, foot tapping on the floor. Crowley adjusted the box in his arms, still a little out of breath from running so much. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Where have you been?” Aziraphale asked. He took the box from Crowley with a scowl. A few days ago Crowley had been given the okay from the doctor to not have to be all wrapped up. He still needed to take it easy, but he was generally free to move about. Not that Aziraphale listened.

“I knew Uriel was gonna be out and I had to go grab something.” Crowley shook his head, reaching up to brush the snow from his hair. Fall had come and gone pleasantly. Things settled into a comfortable routine between them, and even though Crowley was not technically still recovering, he continued to occupy their spare room. 

“You could have just asked one of us to go over for you.” Aziraphale led Crowley into the drawing room. A lovely fire was going in the corner fireplace and Crowley shivered next to it. 

“Yeah but it was easier if I went ‘cause I knew where it was.”

“Why didn’t you ask them for it?” Aziraphale sat down, sipping at his tea and eyeing the box on the coffee table.

“They can’t know I took it.” Crowley rubbed his hands together and stepped up to the box. “It’s Uriel’s Christmas gift.”

“You’re going to give her something she already had?”

“Sort of.” Crowley reached in and pulled up one of the books, holding it out to Aziraphale with a suggestive look.

“Oh. Oh no. I couldn’t.”

“Ah, come on.” Crowley sat on the couch, plopping the book in Aziraphale’s lap. He pulled the pen out of his pocket. “I’m a starving artist, I can’t afford actual gifts.”

Aziraphale gave him a look, grabbing the pen from his hand with force. “You know, dear, if you need to borrow money-” he started signing books.

“I don’t need to borrow money,” Crowley interrupted. 

“I’m just saying. You’re not exactly in the position to work right now. So I thought I’d offer-”

“I’m fine.”

Aziraphale nodded, continuing to scribble away. “So. What are you getting Michael then?”

Crowley shrugged. “The utter joy of discovering that her wife is a huge dork?”

Aziraphale sighed. “And what about me, hm? What do I get?”

“I can’t tell you,” Crowley hissed. “It’s a surprise.”

“Do you have all of your gifts figured out already?”

“Most of them.”

“Perfect. Then you can help me with my shopping tomorrow.”

And that’s just what they did. They traveled down to the town, Aziraphale insisting they took the carriage even though it wasn’t that cold outside. Crowley helped Aziraphale pick out a pair of matching scarves, assuring him Michael and Uriel would think it was adorable. Aziraphale convinced Crowley that, yes, he did have to get Michael an actual gift and no, it couldn’t be that taxidermy bird they saw a few shops back. 

As they walked along, running out of shops, Aziraphale asked, “I don’t suppose you’d be up to helping me with Gabriel’s gift again, would you? Only the last one was so good I’m not sure I can top it on my own.”

Crowley shrugged. He wasn’t as opposed to it as he had been. “You don’t have to get him something.”

Aziraphale huffed. “So no, then.”

“I mean that not all gifts have to be physical. It can be an act of service, ya know? Like me letting Michael know how much Uriel likes the books.” Crowley sighed. “Maybe you could like, make him breakfast in bed or something.”

“Yes. Can you really see me getting up before Gabriel? I have a hard enough time waking up at the same time as him.”

Crowley chuckled. It had been a while since they went inside and he was getting a little cold. He shuffled over pressing against Aziraphale’s body, which seemed always warm. Aziraphale wrapped an arm around him, pulling him closer to that warmth. Which helped in heating up his body in other ways.

“So, uh, yeah. You know. Just something like that,” Crowley said. “Not a physical thing that shows him you care, but a metaphorical one. Or whatever.”

“I think that’s an excellent idea, dear. And I think I know exactly what I’m going to do.”

“Oh please tell me it’s something kinky,” Crowley begged. Aziraphale gently nudged him with his hip, blushing a bit. 

They finished looking through all the shops, but Crowley insisted they found nothing better for Michael than the bird. Aziraphale caved and they went to get it, insisting that he was not going to have his name attached to it.

They walked back to their carriage and Crowley had a god awful thought. 

“Hey, Aziraphale. Uh, do you know, I mean, do you suppose…” It sounded a little silly saying it out loud. Aziraphale waited for him to continue. “Did Gabriel get me anything? Not that I care! Or that I want him to or anything! But, just, if he did, I should know. So I can get him something and I don’t look like a dick, ya know?”

Aziraphale nodded. “Yes, I understand. I know he got you something but I’m not sure what. He was being rather secretive about it all.”

Crowley groaned. “Great. What the hell am I supposed to get him?”

“You don’t have to get him anything, dear, I’m sure he’s not expecting it.”

“I gotta get him something. It’s only fair.”

Aziraphale rubbed his arm. Crowley bit his lip. There was enough time for...yes. That would be just perfect.

-

Aziraphale woke up on Christmas morning feeling all warm and fuzzy inside. Gabriel was still in bed, and Aziraphale snuggled up to his side, pressing his nose to the side of his neck. He pressed a lazy kiss there, too. “Good Morning,” he whispered.

Gabriel placed a hand on Aziraphale’s head, running fingers through his hair. “A very good morning, indeed.” He kissed Aziraphale’s forehead and let out a little sigh.

Aziraphale gasped, spying a bit of outside through the curtains. “It’s snowing,” he said. “Oh how perfect.”

Gabriel held him closer. “Not as perfect as you.”

Aziraphale blushed and buried his face in Gabriel’s shoulder. The moment was ruined by a knocking on their door. 

“C’mon, lovebirds!” Crowley shouted. “Sooner we eat, sooner we get presents.” Then he was walking down the hall, stomping down the steps.

Gabriel sighed again, less content and more annoyed. But his voice almost sounded fond when he spoke. “Why is he still here again? Isn’t he all better?”

Aziraphale sat up, stretching a bit. “He may be better but he’s in no condition to move all his stuff back to his town.”

“Mhm. And the fact that you don’t want him to move back to said town has nothing to do with it?” Gabriel sat up as well, leaning back on his arms.

Aziraphale looked at him. “Let’s not bring any of that up today, okay?” He wanted this day to be as happy and joyful as it could be.

Gabriel nodded and leaned over to press a kiss to Aziraphale’s shoulder. “Meant nothing of it. Let’s go eat, shall we?”

Six years ago, Gabriel and Aziraphale had their first Christmas together. The night before Aziraphale had gotten quite weepy. It was his first Christmas without his family. And, as much as he disliked them, it was still just too much to handle. Gabriel had tried to take his mind off things by teaching him how to make these pastries he had learned about from one of his clients. 

They hadn’t turned out great. But they were an easy thing to make one night and eat for breakfast the next day. They had perfected the cooking technique over the years, so six years later when they shared breakfast with Crowley, the pastries were rather good.

“These are delicious,” Crowley said, mouth half full. “I’d actually believe you edited cookbooks after this.”

Aziraphale smiled and shook his head. “Slow down. You’re going to choke.”

“But the faster we go the quicker we get to the gifts.” Crowley barely chewed and swallowed hard.

“We’re only done when all of us are done,” Gabriel informed him, taking a very small bite of his pastry.

Crowley frowned and slid down in his seat. Aziraphale couldn’t help but be a little excited as well. Crowley’s emotions seemed to be contagious. And the longer they sat there the more Aziraphale was buzzing with him to get to things.

Aziraphale squirmed in his seat a bit, trying not to add to the agitation that was Crowley’s huffing and shifting, but also really ready to move on with things, as it were.

“Birds of a feather,” Gabriel mumbled. He wiped his mouth on his napkin and stood. “Very well, then. Let’s go.”

Crowley jumped up and raced into the drawing room. Aziraphale took Gabriel’s hand before following, giving it a little squeeze. Crowley was already settled on one of the couches, two presents on his lap, rather clumsily wrapped.

“I wanna go first,” he said. 

“Sounds agreeable.” Gabriel sat down on the other couch, Aziraphale next to him. 

Crowley leaned over and handed them their gifts. Aziraphale held is (which was obviously a book) in his lap and watched as Gabriel opened his. It was a chunk of ivory, oval shaped, with a little stand attached to it. Painted on it was a little miniature portrait of Aziraphale, looking stunning in a soft light. 

“For your desk,” Crowley explained. “Cause even if you do have a painting of him there you can always use another one.”

Aziraphale could not even begin trying to describe what he was feeling. Warm. And full. And happy. Crowley had not just given Gabriel a gift, but one with meaning, one that wasn’t selfish or an attempt to undermine him. He bit his lip. Because it was sweet.

“This is incredibly well done,” Gabriel said, looking it over. “Thank you.”

Crowley shrugged. “Yeah. I know. I’m good.”

Aziraphale smiled and then turned to his gift. It was a book, as he suspected. But it wasn’t full of words. It was filled with flowers. Flowers of different kinds and colors all pressed into the pages. And Crowley had scribbled random facts about each one, and drawn little sketches of them as well. 

Aziraphale realized he was crying when a little tear dropped to the page, smearing a bit of the ink. “Ah.” He closed the book and rubbed his eyes. He could not be seen crying over Crowley’s gift. No matter how thoughtful it was. “Thank you. It’s quite lovely.” He cleared his throat. “My turn.”

He got up and went to his desk, pulling the two gifts out of his drawer. He handed them to Gabriel and Crowley and then sat back down, watching in anticipation. 

Crowley tore his open without a second thought. It was a set of brushes. He had had them made special from an artisan in Italy. They had Crowley’s name engraved in them. Crowley looked at them, eyes wide.

“I know. I’m sorry.” He looked at his lap, at the book he had gotten. He felt a little sheepish getting Crowley something so easy and impersonal when he had gone through all the time and effort of making the book.

“Sorry? Aziraphale these are great!” Aziraphale looked back up, certain that it was some kind of joke. “This is probably the nicest gift I’ve ever gotten.”

“You can’t be serious?”

“Are you kidding me? Fusolli brushes? I’ve only wanted one of these for my entire life! And now I’ve got a whole set!”

Aziraphale’s face brightened up. “Oh? Oh I’m so glad you like them.”

“I fucking love them!” Crowley ran his hand gently over them. 

Aziraphale smiled at them but his attention was torn to Gabriel when he heard him messing with the package. He shook a little, biting his lip as he watched Gabriel reveal his gift, which wasn’t the real gift anyway. 

“I want you to read them,” he explained, gesturing the to book Gabriel was holding. 

“Are you sure?” Gabriel cocked an eyebrow at him. 

Aziraphale nodded. “I want to share this part of my life with you.”

Gabriel smiled and leaned forward, kissing him. Aziraphale smiled against his lips. He would have deepened the kiss if he didn’t remember that Crowley was there. He pulled back, blushing a bit. But Crowley wasn’t even paying attention, still looking over his brushes.

Gabriel stood up and left the room to get his gifts. He carried one in, rather large, and placed it on the couch next to Aziraphale. 

“Big gift,” Crowley mused as Gabriel left. 

He returned with an equally large, though different shaped, gift that he placed next to Crowley. Gabriel sat in the arm chair and crossed his legs, looking rather pleased with himself.

Aziraphale and Crowley exchanged a glance. Crowley gestured to Aziraphale’s box. Aziraphale carefully removed the wrapping, gasping softly. Gabriel had gotten him a typewriter. He ran his fingers over the keys. He had seen one of them in London when he had gone with Michael and Uriel. He hadn’t even mentioned it to Gabriel. How did he know?

“Like it?” Gabriel asked.

Aziraphale looked at him with a pressure in his chest that almost made him cry again. “How did you know?”

“Know what?”

“That I wanted one?”

“Oh. Well, I didn’t. But I’m glad you did.” He shrugged. “I just figured you’d like it. You always say your brain works too fast for your hand. And I understand this is to be faster.”

Aziraphale jumped up and raced over to Gabriel, leaning over and hugging him, pressing kisses to his cheek. He couldn't believe that he had such a wonderful and caring husband. One so attentive. One who knew him so well he could anticipate his wants and needs.

“You weren’t lying when you said he was good at gifts,” Crowley said.

Gabriel pulled Aziraphale into his lap, holding him close. “Your turn,” he said, looking almost excited as Crowley started to open his gift.

It was two parts. Part one was a framed painting. It was the one of Crowley’s mother that he had left behind. But that wasn’t what Crowley was looking at. He was leafing through the other papers that had been wrapped together. A stack of paintings, mostly landscape and flowers. 

“They’re your mothers,” Gabriel explained. Aziraphale’s eyes opened in tune with Crowley’s. “I did some research and I found her. Well, I found her name. Did some digging, managed to find a gallery in London that had a collection of hers.”

Crowley was making a very good effort at not crying as he looked through the paintings. He opened his mouth but all that came out was a dry squeak. Aziraphale could imagine what he was feeling, being so close to the mother he never knew, learning about her through her art.

Crowley gulped and turned his watery eyes to Gabriel. “Thank you,” he said.

“You’re welcome,” Gabriel said, his voice soft. Soft in a way it had only ever been with Aziraphale.

And Aziraphale just couldn’t stand it anymore, this electricity in the air. He stood up, wiping his own tearful eyes and cleared his throat. “Well. I'm going to go play with my present.”

Gabriel chuckled softly as Aziraphale carried the typewriter to his desk and looked it over. Crowley just stayed on the couch, touching the paintings and doing his damned best not to cry.


	23. New Year, New Outlook

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who knew nano would totally kick my ass this year????   
Anyway! Things! Are happening! I think by the time I finish the next chapter I'll have an accurate look at how many chapters are going to be left, but we're getting close y'all.   
I just want to say a big huge thank you to all y'all out there who are reading and supporting this fic! It truly just makes me so happy and warm that you guys enjoy this and I hope I do right by you<3 <3 <3  
Special thanks to discord pals for letting me steal their names for this chapter

Crowley had been given a very special job. It was up to him to intercept the mail from Aziraphale. Truth be told, he’d much rather help Gabriel with this ‘special guest list’ he was putting together. He had said something about ‘Aziraphale’s friends’ and Crowley was all but itching to figure it out. 

But. Gabriel was nothing if not stubborn. Worse than Aziraphale sometimes. Crowley had pestered him for almost a week before Christmas to get the details. But Gabriel had refused time and time again. 

So, the day after Christmas, Crowley followed Bentley around as he cleaned, staring a hole in the back of his head. Turns out, everyone in this damn house was stubborn. 

“How much?” Crowley finally asked, because he was all out of arguments to give. 

Bentley gave him a coy smile. “More than you could afford, certainly.”

Crowley growled. He had been trying to convince Bentley to give Crowley the mail every day. Or at least filter through it to check for the letter Gabriel had warned him about. It hadn’t come yet. And while Crowley was very hopeful that it just wouldn’t show up at all, he knew that if it did, it would be that day.

“Oh, come on, man!” Crowley said. “You know this will be better for Aziraphale! If he knows about the party he’s gonna be all weird about things! What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

“I am not employed to make decisions on Master Aziraphale’s behalf,” Bentley told him. “I will not withhold information from him.”

“Nor deny his request,” Crowley finished, rolling his eyes. Because that was the same speech he had heard the last 8 days he’s brought it up. 

Crowley sighed and flopped to the couch as Bentley finished dusting and left the room. Aziraphale had taken his typewriter up to Gabriel’s office. Well, their office now, as Gabriel didn’t use it much during the day. (Apparently he had offered Aziraphale to use it before, but he hadn’t accepted until now. Which Crowley was still trying to figure out). If he was quiet enough, he could hear Aziraphale typing away at the keys. 

Crowley took out his sketch pad and started doodling just to get his mind working. He had to come up with a new tactic and he had to do it now. The mail would be here any minute and he had no idea how he was going to stop it.

He heard the backdoor open and close. But Bentley did not go upstairs to the office. Crowley sighed, sinking into the couch and focusing on his drawings. It was over. Not only was Aziraphale going to make a deal of things, Gabriel would also be upset with him. Not that Crowley particularly cared one way or another if he was. He just knew it would harm his chances of being allowed to stay in their house forever like he planned. (They didn’t know that, technically, his flat back in his old town was no longer his, and that he had sent Uriel to collect his things one day. That they were waiting in her house until he either got the okay from Aziraphale and Gabriel or was forced to find a new place to live). He really didn’t care about letting Gabriel down outside of that point. Not one bit.

More time passed and Crowley busied himself with his art. He didn’t even hear Aziraphale walk up behind him. He just heard a voice, light and next to his ear that said, “I most certainly would not wear _that_."

Crowley startled and slammed his book closed, hugging it to his chest. “A-Aziraphale! Didn’t hear you come in!

“Yes, dear,” Aziraphale said, moving to sit on the opposite couch with a smirk. “I figured. What were you drawing that for anyway?”

Crowley gulped. The truth was much more embarrassing. “Uh. I was just, planning your next Halloween outfit is all. Is all.”

Aziraphale’s smirk deepened. “Is that so?” Crowley nodded. “So I suppose it has nothing to do with the books then, hm?” Crowley shook his head. “Good. Because I can assure you, dear one, that I would not look that good in adventuring gear.”

Crowley gulped. Dear one? That was new. “I wouldn’t say that.” His eyes glanced over Aziraphale’s body. His lovely, lovely body. “I think you’d look hot.”

Aziraphale chuckled and Bentley entered the room, carrying a tray of tea, with a package and a bundle of letters under his arm. He gave Crowley a look, and placed the tray down.

“Your tea, sir,” he said. He took the bundle, another look glanced in Crowley’s direction. “And the mail.” 

“Oh,” Aziraphale said. “It’s rather late today.”

“Indeed.”

Bentley kept looking at Crowley as he slowly held the bundle out to Aziraphale. Crowley panicked. He threw his pencil across the room and stood up abruptly. “Oh no,” he said. “My pencil!” He rushed forward, knocking into Bentley’s arm, spilling the letters and package to the floor.

“Oh dear!” Aziraphale said, getting to his feet. “Are you two alright?”

“Perfectly,” Bentley told him.

“All good. Sorry about that.” Crowley dropped to his knees, gathering the letters while scanning each for the name he had been made aware of. He saw it, and stood up, compiling the others and shoving that one in his back pocket. “Here you are.”

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow at him as he took the stack. “What was that you took?” he asked, glancing down at the envelopes. 

“I didn’t take anything.” Crowley shook his head, holding his hands behind his back to make sure it was still there.

“Mhm.” Aziraphale said. He shook his head. Then he smiled, looking at the package. “Aha! Something you’ll enjoy, I do believe.” He handed it over to Crowley.

Crowley took it and tore it open. He gasped. It was a copy of the newest Dangerous Dan book. “Finally!” He opened it and scanned over the pages, flipping through for spoilers. 

Aziraphale laughed and then leaned forward, reaching around Crowley’s back and snatching the letter from his pocket before Crowley even realized it, too distracted to realize.

“Hey!” He closed the book and grabbed for the letter but Aziraphale spun out of the way, keeping the letter out of reach. “Give that back!”

“It’s not for you, is it,” Aziraphale said, face prim as he opened the letter.

“It’s not for you, either,” Crowley said. He immediately regretted it, however, because he knew exactly how sensitive that subject was.

Aziraphale didn’t seem to be troubled by it, thankfully. “I’m his husband,” he argued. “It’s my right.”

Crowley knew it was a losing battle and he hung his head as Aziraphale read over the letter. Now things would be difficult and weird and Gabriel would be upset and really, Crowley ought to just leave.

“Why did you try to hide this from me?” Aziraphale asked. Then he huffed, shaking his head. “I can’t believe Gabriel would employ you in his wild schemes!”

“It’s not a wild scheme,” Crowley mumbled. “It’s a surprise.”

“Oh?” Aziraphale put the letter down on the table and studied Crowley. “Go on then.”

“What part of surprise did you not understand?” Crowley asked. Aziraphale put his hands on his hips and stared at Crowley, expectantly. He sighed. He just couldn't say no to that face. “Gabriel’s been planning his own New Year’s Eve party.”

“What? He-he can’t! No one would come! The Millers’ party is an annual tradition! He can’t throw a party that opposes it. Absolutely no one would be there!”

Crowley shrugged. “Apparently he’s already got yeses. Said they were a bunch of your friends.”

Aziraphale furrowed his eyebrows. “Friends? Well, surely the list would be small. I mean, there’s you. And I suppose Michael and Uriel, but I really can’t see them snuffing the Millers. And I completely understand them not. Who does he mean?”

Crowley shrugged again. “I don’t know. I was hoping you’d shed some light on that.”

Aziraphale shook his head. “Oh dear. He’s gotten rather creative hasn’t he?”

“Creative?”

“It’s just another ploy of his! He’s made up this whole fake party to trick me into not bothering him about this one! Oh!” Aziraphale huffed and stomped his foot. “I can’t believe him!”

“I don’t think it’s fake,” Crowley said. “He’s been making all kinds of plans. Even gave Bentley a menu and everything.”

Aziraphale scrunched up his face. “That surely can’t be true. Who would he invite? That would say yes?”

A third shrug. “What? You don’t trust me?”

“It’s not you I don’t trust, dear. But Gabriel.”

Crowley laughed, shaking his head. “You two really need to work on your communication and trust skills, ya know? It’s not healthy.”

“We are going to this party and Gabriel needs to learn that he can’t pull the wool over my eyes so easily.”

Crowley rolled his eyes. A house full of stubborn fools indeed.

-

New Years Eve. A wonderful time of celebration and festivities. Aziraphale woke up late, frowning. He had gotten pretty good at making sure that he woke up with or just after Gabriel. The early morning times were nice. Crowley was usually still sleeping, and he and Gabriel could enjoy each other’s company in the soft light.

But that day he had missed it. He sat up and blinked, rubbing at his sleepy eyes. He had to admit, however, that it was nice getting a full night’s rest again. He didn’t know how Gabriel operated on a daily basis. 

He took his time getting dressed, looking over what he was going to wear to the Millers' that night. He figured it didn’t matter a great deal, as no one would pay any particular attention to him. But he still had to look his best, lest he give them reason to jest at Gabriel. 

When he went downstairs, Crowley was at the table, eating. Aziraphale’s place was already set and he sat down. “Why didn’t you wake me, dear?” He asked, studying the half-empty plate before Crowley.

“Wanted you to get your rest,” he said, spewing a few crumbs on the table. Aziraphale sighed at them. “You’re gonna be up pretty late tonight, you know?”

Aziraphale frowned and looked at the empty place at the head of the table. “Where is Gabriel? Surely he didn’t go into work today? I thought they were closed.”

“He’s out,” Crowley said, not looking at him. “Had a few more things to prepare for the party, or what not.”

Aziraphale sighed. “Really. I can’t believe you two are still keeping up with this whole charade.”

“It’s not a charade!” Crowley cried. “How many times do I have to tell you! It’s really happening.”

Aziraphale most certainly did not believe him. Even if Crowley wasn’t lying, he knew Gabriel was. It was just a new tactic to get Aziraphale to stay home from a party. Gabriel must have spun quite the story to get Crowley to believe him. But Aziraphale was a professional when it came to dealing with Gabriel. And he knew the truth.

And so he said nothing as he went about his day. Crowley had devoured the most recent book and kept trying to sneak into the office to get a peak of the next one. Aziraphale spent a few hours chasing him out before giving up and hiding the pages before going down the get some reading done.

He started to get suspicious when the sun went down and Gabriel was still not home. Bentley was even in on it, working that afternoon to make a variety of food and set up some decorations before finally accepting Aziraphale’s offer of having the night off. Aziraphale even got himself dressed, determined he would just go to the damn party alone. He wasn’t convinced that Gabriel hadn’t just already gone without him. 

“I’m telling you the truth,” Crowley said, watching Aziraphale pace in the hall. He was going to leave in ten minutes with or without Gabriel. He had asked Crowley to go with him, but he continued to insist on this party happening.

Before Aziraphale could respond, the door opened, bringing in a rush of cold air as Gabriel stepped in, shaking the freshly fallen snow from his coat and hair. “Sorry we’re late,” he said. 

“We?” Aziraphale asked. 

Gabriel stepped to the side, holding the door open as a small stream of people filed in after him. People that Aziraphale knew. His friends. His old friends. Friends he hasn’t spoken too since getting married. Friends he thought he would never see again.

“Hey there, Angel,” Archer said, smirking that devious smile of his. A little similar to Crowley’s, now that Aziraphale thought about it. 

“Angel?” Crowley asked, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall. Oh they really could be brothers. 

“Obviously,” Jay said. “He’s our little angel.” 

“Little and strong,” Jordan added with a wink.

Aziraphale blushed. He wished Crowley wasn’t here for this. Gabriel either. It’s been five years since he’s seen them all. He had spent a lot of his time at the gentlemen’s club. He had gotten to know a lot of the men (and women) that worked there over the years. And here they all were. Standing in his foyer. Here to ring in the new year. Here at his husband’s invitation.

“Aww,” Shay said, smiling. “There’s that adorable face we know and love so much!” She hooked an arm with Aziraphale’s, dragging him off to the drawing room.

Aziraphale was still a little in shock to try and fight it. Not that he would if he was in the right mind. But he might have at least questioned it a bit. She sat him down on one of the couches, snuggled up to his side. Ekatherine sat on his other side, grabbing his other arm. Jordan, Faye, and Jay sat across from them (after an incident in which Jordan tried to sit in Aziraphale’s lap and Fay pushed him off). Archer, meanwhile, did that circling thing where he was looking all around the room at stuff, the way Crowley did. Aziraphale wondered if they were maybe separated at birth.

“Oh no, kids,” Archer said, pulling a book off the shelf. “We’ve got ourselves a danger boy.” He held the book out to the others and Aziraphale only blushed more.

“You naughty thing, you,” Ekatherine said, poking him in the side.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Crowley said. He fell into one of the arm chairs, legs hanging over the side. Aziraphale was sure his face was about as red as Crowley’s hair.

“Oh?” Jay asked, sitting up to attention. “Do tell?”

Gabriel, thankfully, walked in then, carrying a tray of drinks for everyone. Aziraphale felt a little guilty that Gabriel was taking on the duty of serving, when he really should be. But he was sure that Shay and Ekathrine wouldn’t let him up even if he tried.

“So how are you all doing?” Aziraphale asked, eagerly grabbing a drink. If he face was going to be so hot all the time he’d like for it to have a reason.

“Don’t deflect,” Faye said. She leaned forward, elbows on her knees. “We want to hear all the details.”

Aziraphale continued to deflect, choosing to just sip at his drink, as if he was thinking. He heard Crowley chuckle and he bit his lip. He knew he could trust Crowley to not spill his secrets. But Crowley would certainly make him pay for it.

“So who exactly are you?” Archer asked, squinting at Crowley a bit. He had always been protective of Aziraphale, ever since they first met. He had nearly gone postal when Aziraphale showed up that one day after the incident. He had even been ready to fight Gabriel when he came to find him. 

“This is Crowley!” Aziraphale said, interjecting Crowley’s start to that answer. “He’s a painter. He’s been staying in town doing some work.”

“A painter, eh?” Jay asked. He leaned forward, looking past Faye to Crowley. 

Crowley entertained their questions, but Aziraphale wasn’t really paying attention. He was looking for Gabriel, who had left after dropping off the drinks. He managed to squirm his way out of his friends’ grasp, claiming he had to use the bathroom. He found Gabriel in the kitchen, arranging a plate of appetizers. 

“What have you done?” Aziraphale asked. He was a mix of pure happiness and guilt. 

“I thought you liked cucumber sandwiches,” Gabriel said. “But I’m sure I can put something else together if you’d like.”

“No, Gabriel.” Aziraphale stepped up to him, wrapping his arms around his waist and leaning his head on his back. “What have you _done_?”

Gabriel kept working, moving Aziraphale with him as he reached about the counter space. “I threw you what I figured would be a good New Year’s Eve party.”

“But…” Aziraphale sighed. “You shouldn’t have brought them here. I told you why I didn’t want to see them again.”

“Yes, you did,” Gabriel agreed. “And I told you it was a very stupid reason that did not actually matter.”

Aziraphale sighed again, closing his eyes. He had made a lot of changes when he and Gabriel got married. The biggest one was to stop going to the club. Mostly it was because it was particularly important in the first few months that Aziraphale didn’t go out alone, especially when he was still in that old town. And then it had been because he was worried about Gabriel’s reputation. He figured he could stop the ‘prostitute’ rumors if he wasn’t there anymore. (Clearly he hadn’t). For a while he just wrote to them. But even then he was worried about someone finding out. He decided to cut all ties for the sake of his husband. Who had found out some time later and was decidedly unhappy about that decision.

“They’re your friends,” Gabriel informed him. “You’re going to have a relationship with them.”

“That sounds like a threat,” Aziraphale said.

Gabriel turned around in his arms, hands cupping Aziraphale’s face. “It is.” He kissed him. On the lips. On purpose. Aziraphale smiled.

“Hey, lover boy,” Archer said. He was standing in the doorway. “We’ve decided we’re gonna kiss your husband at midnight.”

“Have you now?” Gabriel asked.

“It’s only fair.” Archer walked up and grabbed Aziraphale’s arm, easily pulling him away. “You had him all to yourself the last five years, after all.”

It turned out to be a lovely evening. Another drink in and Aziraphale was no longer concerned with his or Gabriel’s reputation. He talked and laughed and caught up with all his friends. They took rotations sitting on the couch with him. Even Crowley seemed to be enjoying himself. Although, Aziraphale couldn’t help but feel a little jealous whenever he got too close to someone. Not that he would admit that. Must have just been the alcohol affecting him.

Then it was midnight. The clock rang out and six pairs of devious eyes were on him. Aziraphale sank down into the couch, wary but excited. Ekatherine and Jay were very chaste, pressing a kiss to his cheeks, one on each side, squishing his face together. Then Shay wiggled her way in, kissing the tip of his nose before flicking it softly. Jordan got a little crazy, grabbing Aziraphale’s face from Shay and pressing a full on kiss to his lips. Faye pushed him out of the way, rolling her eyes at him. She took Aziraphale’s face in her hands and leaned over, a gentle kiss to his forehead, whispering “It’s going to be okay,” as she pulled away. Then it was Archer’s turn. But he just stood behind the couch, leaning over and kissing the top of Aziraphale’s head. 

Aziraphale sat, surrounded by his old friends, in pure bliss. But he hadn’t been keeping track of how much Crowley was drinking that night. He looked over, a little worried (and perhaps excited) that Crowley was going to try something. And he certainly was trying something. Just not what Aziraphale expected. 

Crowley had tossed his empty glass over his shoulder (thankfully on the rug so it didn’t break), and had grabbed Gabriel’s face. They were kissing. And not like before. Gabriel actually seemed to be kissing him back this time. Somewhere inside him, Aziraphale felt like maybe he should be jealous, or upset, or worried. But he just felt that same strange feeling he had before, only about ten times more intense. 

It was an odd sensation. Like a warmth in Aziraphale’s gut, and a spread of love over his skin. Last time he just told himself it was the anger and frustration at what Crowley had done. This time it was clearly the drink and the welcome surprise of his dear friends. 

That was all.


	24. Family Drama

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YALL CNA YOU BELIEVE WE ARE GETTING CLOSE  
THINGS ARE HAPPENING WE ARE EXISTING  
I'm pretty sure there's only 3 chapters left, but I might split one into two so don't quote me on that.   
ANd thank you all again for reading and all your lovely comments. You guys are the best <3

Crowley really should not have been surprised when he woke up with a headache. It was alright for him to be surprised about waking up in his bed. Because he vaguely remembered falling asleep on the chair downstairs. Maybe Aziraphale had carried him up again? That idea made the blood rush to his face, increasing the pressure of his headache.

Last night came to him slowly as he sat up, feet pressing against the floor. He remembered having a few drinks. And talking to Azirapahle’s old friends. He had gotten quite a few good stories out of them, and he knew he wasn’t remembering all of them. (He could still make fun of the few he held on to). Then he had a few more drinks. A few too many drinks, rather. And midnight happened. And Aziraphale’s friends had all kissed him. And Crowley had loved seeing him so happy. But he had also seen Gabriel happy. Which was interesting. Because he had expected Gabriel to be upset, or angry, or jealous, or whatever he would be. But he was smiling. And then…

_Oh no._

Crowley had kissed him. He had kissed Gabriel. He groaned at the realization, burying his face in his hands. What was he going to do now? He certainly couldn’t deal with this with a hangover. Nope. He certainly couldn’t deal with this at all. He had to get out of that house.

Crowley got up and flushed even hotter when he realized he was in his pajamas. Had Aziraphale changed him? He didn’t even bother getting dressed. He had to make a quick getaway, and fast. 

He didn’t hear anything when he opened his door, so he figured it was safe to use the front door. He crept down the stairs, having already figured out where all the sensitive parts of the floor were, easily avoiding any creaks.

He peeked into the drawing room as he snuck past. Aziraphale’s friends were all still piled up on the couch. They had fallen asleep practically on top of him. And he was still there. Crowley could see half of his face not obstructed by someone’s arm, his hair all fluffed up. If he was still in the pile, then who had put Crowley to bed last night?

Crowley did not want to think about who that could have been and the implications of that. He just grabbed his coat, tossed on a pair of shows and ran out the door, letting the morning chill cool off his thoughts as he raced over to Michael and Uriel’s. 

Michael was walking down the length of the hall when Crowley used his spare key to sneak in. They stood still, staring at one another, the door still open.

“Close the door at least,” Michael said, rolling her eyes. “You’ll let all the heat out.”

Crowley complied, clicking the door shut with a soft tick. “Uh, you’re up early. No big partying last night?”

“Could ask you the same thing,” she said.

“Yeah, but ya didn’t.”

Michael shook her head, a fond smile on her face as she rolled her eyes. “Honestly. What did you do now?”

“Why do you always assume I’ve done something? Can’t a guy just drop by in the morning to visit his friends?”

Michael anchored her hands on her hips. “Did you just stop by to visit us?”

Crowley huffed, trilling his lips. “Okay, fine. Maybe I didn’t. But you can’t just assume it every time. I could genuinely just be visiting.”

Michael laughed softly. She walked over and took Crowley’s arm, leading him over to the drawing room. Uriel was there, sipping on some coffee. She blinked at him. “What did you do?”

Crowley rolled his eyes and let Michael push him to the couch, sitting next to him and holding him down. “He doesn’t like to be assumed of doing things,” she said, smirking at Uriel.

“But he always does things,” Uriel argued.

“I kissed Gabriel!” Crowley yelled out. He took a deep breath, the pressure in his chest lessening after he said it out loud.

“Again?” Uriel asked.

“What do you mean again?” Crowley leaned forward, squinting at her. 

“Uh.” Uriel and Michael exchanged a glance. “Why don’t you just tell us about when you kissed him.”

“Last night,” Crowley hissed. “At midnight!”

“Oh, oh yeah,” Uriel said, clearing her throat. “That’s what I was talking about. Okay so just the once then.” She nodded, sipping at her coffee and looking away.

Crowley blinked at her because how the hell would they have known about it?

“Crowley,” Michael said, hand rubbing over Crowley’s arm, stealing his attention. “What happened? Didn't Gabriel and Aziraphale kiss at midnight?”

Crowley shook his head. “No. Aziraphale’s friends kissed him.”

They exchanged another glance. “Okay, we are totally coming back to that later,” Michael said. “But for now let’s keep the focus on you kissing Gabriel?”

“Yes,” Uriel said. She set her mug down and stared, wide eyed, at him. “Tell us everything.”

Crowley sighed and hid his face in his hands. He didn’t even remember it all properly. And the reason he had kissed him didn’t make any sense. “I dunno,” he said. “I was drunk.” And Gabriel had kissed him back, he realized, blushing a hot red.

“Well that explains it,” Michael said.

“All the best stories start with ‘I was drunk’,” Uriel agreed.

“There’s no more to the story,” Crowley said. “It’s just, that. I was drunk and I kissed him.”

“Hell of a story either way,” Uriel said. Then she started laughing. “I’m sorry,” she said, trying to catch her breath as they both stared at her. “I just...I just imagined it! It’s too funny.”

She laughed harder, her face turning red with the effort, wrapping an arm over her stomach as she bent over. Watching her, Michael started to laugh as well. She at least has the decency to cover her mouth and look away while doing it. Uriel, meanwhile, was falling onto her side, going into full hysterics.

“Glad to know my life is so amusing to you,” Crowley mumbled.

“Sorry,” Uriel wheezed. “It’s just...you used to...he was gonna kill...and now…!” Uriel started crying, both hands hugging herself now. 

“Alright. I’m getting my stuff and I’m leaving.” Crowley stood up, but Michael went with him, continuing to hold his arm. 

“Nonsense. You are going back to their house and you are going to face this. You never know, something good might come of this.”

Crowley scowled at her. What good could come of kissing Gabriel?

“And take your mail with you while you’re at it.” Michael reached down, picking up a stack of letters and shoved it into his hands. “You don’t live here. I’m burning anymore mail you get.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Crowley mumbled. He gave her a side hug. “Sure you will. Later, chuckles.”

Crowley waved at Uriel, who was still trying to stop laughing. He heard Michael start up again as he left the room. He had half a mind to go back in there and tell them off for laughing at his plights, but the letter on top caught his attention, and he read over it as he walked back home.

He snuck in, checking to make sure Aziraphale and co. were still asleep. They were. He sighed and wandered into the kitchen, hoping to snag some breakfast. Gabriel was there, standing at the counter, drinking some coffee and reading over a newspaper. Crowley gulped, unable to move. All he could do was remember that kiss. And try to forget what may have come after it.

“Morning,” Gabriel said, not even glancing at him. “Sleep well?”

“Uh. Yeah.” Crowley slunk over to the counter on the other side of the kitchen, opening the bread box and taking a piece. 

“Are you...going to toast that or anything?” Gabriel asked, eyeing Crowley as he took a bite.

“Why?” Crowley asked, spewing some crumbs on the floor. Gabriel just sighed and looked back at his paper. “Hey, uh, so you wanna like...ride in together or something?”

Gabriel’s eyebrows furrowed and he looked up at Crowley. “I’m sorry...do what?”

“Ride in together? To your parents?”

Gabriel blinked a few times, almost starting to speak, but then seeming to change his mind. Crowley pulled the letter out of his pocket, holding it up. “I’m their painter,” he clarified. “For the portrait this year. Figured we could just go together ya know. Easier that way or whatever.” He shrugged.

“Oh,” Gabriel said. He reached out and Crowley handed him the letter. He scoffed. “I see. Well, no need to worry about that. I’m not going.”

“Oh?” Crowley took the letter back and stuffed it in his pocket. “Taking a final stand against them, huh?”

“Sure,” Gabriel said. He looked back at his paper, drinking his coffee again. 

Crowley hummed softly and ate his bread. Aziraphale shuffled in, looking all sleepy and ruffled, hair everywhere as he rubbed at his eyes and yawned. Too adorable for Crowley to function.

“Good morning,” he said, his voice a soft whisper. 

Gabriel didn’t seem to respond and that made Crowley worry. Had his happiness at all the kissing last night been all fake? Was it actually a problem? Had he made things worse by kissing him?

Aziraphale seemed to mirror his concerns, walking over and placing a hand on Gabriel’s back, leaning over to look at him. Gabriel startled, standing up. “Sorry,” he said, forcing a smile. “Didn’t hear you up.” He reached over and pulled Aziraphale into a hug, kissing the top of his head.

“Are you alright?” Aziraphale asked. “You looked lost in thought.”

“I’m fine,” Gabriel said. He released his hold and offered Aziraphale a cup of coffee, which he denied.

“Uh, should I turn them down?” Crowley asked as Aziraphale went about making some tea. 

Gabriel shook his head. “No. You go. It's fine.”

“Turn who down?” Aziraphale asked. “For what?”

“It’s not important,” Gabriel said, tossing a warning glance at Crowley.

But Crowley wasn’t going to back down to that, not to Mr. Lies Don’t Belong in a Relationship. “Gabriel’s parents want to hire me to paint their new family portrait.”

Gabriel glared at him. 

“Oh? Well that could be fun,” he said, smiling softly. “You two could spend some time together on your way there? Just...maybe don’t go punching anyone?”

“Gabriel’s not going,” Crowley said. 

Aziraphale turned to Gabriel, face half shocked and half upset. “Out of the question,” he said. “You are going! They are your family and you will be in their portrait, understand?”

“Yes, dear,” Gabriel said.

Then Crowley got an idea. “You know. You guys are married,” he said.

“We are?” Aziraphale asked, fake gasping.

Crowley rolled his eyes at him. “Yes. You are. And that means, you’re technically in the family.” He slid over, an arm wrapping around Aziraphale’s shoulder. “You should be in it, too.” He waggled his eyebrows at him.

“No,” Gabriel said, before Aziraphale could speak.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Crowley said, giving him a look. He squeezed Aziraphale’s shoulder. “What do you say? They want me as their painter, they gotta have the _whole_ family there.”

Aziraphale gulped. “Oh I-I don’t think I could do that. It...it wouldn’t be...they wouldn’t like...I can’t…”

“You can,” Crowley said. “And you should.”

“I...I don’t...well…” Aziraphale looked over at Gabriel and Crowley sighed. He wanted to say that Gabriel really had nothing to say about it, it was Aziraphale’s decision, not his. But he figured that Aziraphale was worried about the fact that it was Gabriel’s family, and that he wanted to be respectful of that. 

“It’s not going to go well,” Gabriel told him. “Don’t put yourself through that.”

Aziraphale’s body deflated at bit. Then it rose higher, smiling. “I think I shall,” he said. “After all, Crowley is right. We are married, dear. And whether they like it or not, I’m a part of their family now.”

Gabriel’s eyebrows rose up. “Are you...sure?”

Aziraphale gave him a strong nod. “Absolutely.” Then he smiled some more, going back to his tea making.

Crowley looked over at Gabriel, who was giving him a look. It was a strange look. A wary look. It took all the elation of Aziraphale’s declaration out of Crowley’s soul.

-

The train ride had been rather comfortable. Crowley spent the time looking out the window and scribbling things in the notebook Gabriel had gotten him in the fall. He had decided to use it as a drawing journal, and it was nearly full already. Aziraphale watched him with interest, as Gabriel read one of Aziraphale’s books. He was working his way through them rather quickly, and had no lack of praise to give.

Even the carriage ride up to the house wasn’t too bad. Crowley was admiring his new brushes. He had been itching to use them, but said he didn’t want to waste them on some small thing. It had to be special. And this, he figured was special.

But the closer they got to the house, the more agitated and worried Gabriel looked. He stared out the window, chin in his hand, frowning. His hands opened and closed over his leg. Aziraphale reached over, grabbing one of them, and giving it a squeeze. He knew Gabriel’s parents would not approve of Aziraphale being there. But Crowley had been right. Aziraphale was a part of that family. And like it or not, they couldn’t change it. And after seeing all his old friends, and reveling in the fact that they loved him, even after he had stopped talking to them, he was feeling more confident than ever.

They arrived at the house and stood behind Crowley at the door. Aziraphale was carrying some of his things, after trying not to laugh watching him struggle with it all. Gabriel had his eyes closed, preparing for whatever fight this would bring about. Crowley knocked and Aziraphale gave Gabriel a reassuring smile. 

The door opened. The butler glanced over them.

“Uh, Anthony J. Crowley,” Crowley said. “Painter.”

The butler’s eyes scanned up over Gabriel and Aziraphale. He nodded and stepped to the side, holding a hand out for them to walk in. 

Crowley let out a low whistle. “Damn,” he said. “Nice place.”

And it was. Large and perfectly decorated in a tasteful fashion. The epitome of rich chic. The butler led them through to the fashionably furnished drawing room, where Gabriel’s parents and brother were waiting.

“This is who you hired?” Sandalphon asked, pointing to Crowley.

At the same time, his mother looked at Gabriel and said, “What are you doing here?”

“Love to cause a scene everywhere I go,” Crowley said, smirking.

“We’re here for the family portrait,” Aziraphale said, straightening his back a bit. His confidence was starting to fade, but he still had enough to go on for now.

“That would require you to be in the family,” she continued.

“I am,” Aziraphale said. Although his body shrank a bit, no longer feeling it so strongly in their presence. “I married Gabriel and that makes me a part of this.”

“He’s not in it either,” Sandalphon said, sneering slightly.

Gabriel huffed. “So that’s just it, huh?” He shook his head, hands on his hips. “Just going to pretend I don’t exist, that I never existed? You going to get rid of all my stuff? Take away any pictures of me? It’s as if I never happened, right?”

“You chose not to be a part of this family,” his father said, frowning. “Do not get dramatic because we have accepted that fact.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “No. You’re right. I’m being dramatic. Just like Sarah was right? Or do you even remember her?”

“There is no need to bring that up,” his mother said. She pursed her lips, squinting slightly.

“Right. Because there’s never a reason to bring anything up, is there?” He shook his head again. “That’s fine. Go on with your painting. Let Sandalphon there carry on your great family legacy. I’m sure he’ll handle it well.”

Gabriel spun around and stormed out of the room, Aziraphale hot on his heels. He walked right out, not grabbing his coat, so Aziraphale grabbed it for him, chasing after him through the snow.

“Gabriel, wait! You’ll freeze!”

Gabriel got a few more feet down the lawn before stopping, head hanging. Aziraphale caught up, wrapping the coat over Gabriel’s shoulder. He then pulled Gabriel into a hug, rubbing his hands over his back to both warm and soothe.

“I’m sorry,” Gabriel mumbled, leaning his head on Aziraphale’s shoulder. “I didn’t mean to snap like that.”

“You call that snapping?” Aziraphale asked. He chuckled softly. “I think that was rather tame.” Gabriel shifted closer, wrapping his arms around Aziraphale. “Gabriel, may I ask you a question?”

“Hm?”

“Who’s Sarah?” Gabriel sighed and pulled away. “I didn’t mean to upset you! You don’t have to tell me, I was just curious.”

“No. You should know.” Gabriel rubbed the back of his neck, then shrugged his coat on fully. “I'm sorry I didn’t tell you before. Sarah was my sister.”

“You have a sister?”

“Had.”

Aziraphale’s mouth opened slightly and he felt a strange sense of guilt and sadness. “Oh, Gabriel. I’m so sorry. I...what happened?”

“She got sick. My parents didn’t think it was that bad. Didn’t want to get her a doctor. I didn’t fight and…”

Aziraphale could imagine the rest. He shook his head and pulled Gabriel back into a hug. “I’m so sorry, my dear. I can’t begin to imagine what that was like, to go through it. To...to have them…” The guilt and pain churned, transforming into a heat of rage. “I can’t believe them,” he said. “I simply can’t.”

“Yes, well, they are like that,” Gabriel said. 

“Well. They aren’t getting away with it this time.”

Aziraphale released Gabriel and stomped back to the house, Gabriel waiting a moment before chasing after him. Aziraphale didn’t even bother to knock the snow off his boots or take off his coat. He didn’t even register Crowley by the door, getting his own gear on. He just stormed right into the drawing room, face red and finger pointing at the family there.

“You despicable human beings,” Aziraphale said. The family looked surprised but Aziraphale gave them no room to talk. “I don’t know how you can even stand to live with yourself!”

“Aziraphale,” Gabriel interjected, grabbing for his arm, Crowley watching from behind. 

Aziraphale shook him off. “No! They don’t deserve your time or your help,” he continued. “Gabriel is the best man to ever live and it’s a wonder he came from such a shity family as you all.”

“Now hold on-” Gabriel’s father started.

“No! You hold on,” Aziraphale said. “I can’t believe I ever wasted so much time thinking about you all and worrying about Gabriel’s relationship with you. But I see now that that was ridiculous! You don’t deserve a relationship with Gabriel. You don’t deserve my effort trying to fix it. I should have listened to Gabriel a long time ago and just been glad he wasn’t here anymore. But I am now! So you go ahead and you push him out of this family because this,” he gestured about to the room, “isn’t a family. And I’m taking him home with me where we have a real family and you can just sit here and be repressed all you want!”

Aziraphale grabbed Gabriel’s arm and pulled him away, grabbing Crowley as well, dragging them both out of the house.

“Uh, Aziraphale,” Gabriel said, as he dragged them away, down the street. 

“No,” Aziraphale said. “I’ve made up my mind. You were right and we are not going to waste a second more on them.”

“I meant to say we have a carriage,” Gabriel said, smiling a bit. 

“Oh.” Aziraphale slowed to a stop, feeling rather warm. His body was still abuzz with adrenaline and excitement. “Right.”

“That was hot,” Crowley said as they started walking back to the house, just to leave again. “I mean, damn. Remind me to find more reasons for you to yell, okay?”

Aziraphale shook his head. He was glad he had done what he did, said what he said, but he shouldn’t have yelled it, exactly. Gabriel grabbed his hand, smiling. Aziraphale looked at him, and smiled back. Because neither of them had to worry about that family anymore. And things would be better from now on. Now that Aziraphale was no longer worried about Gabriel’s relationship with them all. Now that he was glad Gabriel was no longer a part of that.

“You know,” Gabriel said, helping Aziraphale into the carriage before climbing in after him. “We do have something that needs to be discussed.”

Crowley settled down on the bench opposite of them and the carriage rattled away. 

“What’s that, dear?” Aziraphale asked, taking Gabriel’s hand again.

Gabriel cast a glance at Crowley. And Aziraphale kind of liked the look in his eye. “New Year’s Eve,” he said.

Crowley choked on his own spit, sputtering about a bit before catching his breath. Aziraphale chuckled. Gabriel and him had talked about it, and decided it was fine. After all, it had been New Year’s Eve, and they had had some drinks, and really it wasn’t like they were going to kiss with all of Aziraphale’s friends there. And now Gabriel seemed determined to make Crowley suffer a bit anyway.

“Uh,” Crowley said. “What-what about New Years Eve?”

Gabriel smirked. “We kissed,” he said. “And by my recollection, we need to make things even.”

Now it was Aziraphale’s turn to choke, coughing because Gabriel could not be suggesting what he was suggesting. But Gabriel turned his sly smile to him and it seemed to be true.

“Alright,” Crowley said. He scrunched up his face, body tightening. “Go ahead. Just make it quick.”

“What are you talking about?” Aziraphale asked, to both of them really.

“Hit me,” Crowley said. His eyes closed. “Just, maybe not the face?”

Aziraphale sighed, because Crowley really was an idiot. He looked at Gabriel, who had an intense gaze that said, it’s okay. But it couldn’t be okay. Could it? Gabriel wanted them to kiss? Right in front of him? Gabriel gestured to Crowley, nodding softly.

Aziraphale leaned forward, glancing back at Gabriel to make sure he wasn’t going to change his mind, or that he wasn’t playing some kind of weird trick. He stilled. Maybe it was a test. Maybe Gabriel was making sure that Aziraphale was really true. That he wasn’t going to cheat on him after all. He sat back, smug as could be that he would pass.

Gabriel groaned. “Would you just kiss him already?”

Crowley’s eyes popped open. “Wait, what?”

“A kiss for a kiss,” Gabriel said, shrugging. “That was what you said.”

“Huh?”

Aziraphale’s mouth opened slightly. That _was_ what he had said after all. Those were his terms, and Gabriel had accepted them. And Aziraphale wanted to accept them too.

He sat forward and leaned over, grabbing Crowley’s face and kissing him. It was nice, once Crowley got over being surprised and relaxed. It didn’t last nearly as long as Aziraphale wanted it to, but Gabriel was right there.

He settled back in his seat, Gabriel taking his hand. Crowley’s face was deep red. He slouched in his seat, trying to burrow his head in his coat. Aziraphale chuckled, smiling at him. He felt Gabriel squeeze his hand and he was very, very glad he had decided to come.


	25. Presentation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH DEAR WE GETTING THERE  
I did decide to split this chapter up so this is just Crowley and the next chapter will be just Aziraphale  
Then there will be the 'ha ha ha can't believe you thought it would be that easy' chapter.  
And then the ending/epilogue chapter.  
It's  
*happening*  
Thank you guys so much for being here and following along. I am legit considering just, freaking changing the names and some things and publishing this 😂😂   
Hey, if fifty shades of grey can do it so can i!!!

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Michael asked, arms crossed as she stared at Crowley gathering his things. 

“Yeah. There’s a very good chance this will end in disaster,” Uriel agreed. 

“I don’t care,” Crowley told them. He shoved his large pad of paper under one arm, and tried to pick up his easel with the other. It toppled and Uriel caught it. “It’s all I can do.”

“I think there are several other options before this,” Michael said. Uriel nodded, holding the easel for Crowley while he tried to figure out a way to grab it successfully. “What are you going to do if they say no?”

“They won’t say no,” Crowley said. They couldn’t, not after what happened yesterday. Not after Aziraphale had kissed him. With Gabriel’s blessing, no less. This was a good idea, no matter what Michael and Uriel said. “Besides, once I do this you don’t have to listen to me complain about it all so, win-win.”

“That is true.” Uriel let Crowley take the easel and then slapped him on the head.

“Ow! What was that for?” he asked, scrunching up his shoulders and trying to rub at the point of impact.

“I just feel like I haven’t done that in a while,” she said. “And I’m sure you deserve it.”

“You are a menace to society,” Crowley mumbled, adjusting his grip and heading for the door, the two of them trailing after him. “Wish me luck!”

Michael opened the door and shook her head. “You’re going to need it.”

Crowley gave her a look and braced himself before heading out into the cold. He had a good amount of time to stress and overthink the upcoming meeting. He nearly had himself talked out of it, maybe ready to just turn around and head back. But then he saw Aziraphale through the window of his house, sitting on the couch and reading a book with a soft smile on his face and all fears melted away. This was where he was supposed to be, and he would not let himself leave.

He knocked on the door with his foot, and Bentley retrieved him, leading him to the drawing room. Aziraphale glanced up, then jumped up.

“Crowley!” he said. “There you are! I was worried about you!”

Crowley blushed a bit. “Yeah. Sorry.” He had kind of ran off after they got back to town, spending the night at Michael and Uriel’s. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to be with Aziraphale and Gabriel that night, he just had to work on a special project. “Gabriel around?”

Aziraphale nodded. “He’s in the office. Why?”

Crowley nodded towards the stairs. “C’mon.”

He didn’t wait for Aziraphale to respond, climbing his way up the stairs, almost losing the easel again. He heard Aziraphale follow him slowly. He pushed the door to Gabriel’s office open with his foot, Gabriel giving him a look but saying nothing as he walked in.

“What’s going on?” Aziraphale asked. He stood to the side, fidgeting as he watched Crowley attempt to open his easel with one hand. It wasn’t easy.

“I have something to, er, ask,” Crowley said. He shouted in joy as he got the clip down, the easel resting on the ground easily. He placed the pad of paper on it, facing the desk, and gestured Aziraphale over to Gabriel.

Aziraphale gave him a wary look but followed his notion, moving over to stand beside Gabriel, one arm over the back of the chair.

Crowley cleared his throat and pulled the pointer out of his pocket, folding it open and holding it before him, looking at the two of them. His body started to shake a little with all the nerves coursing through it. This was it. This was going to be it. The be all end all of his life. Either it went really well, and he was happy forever, or it went terribly, and he was back to being miserable. Either way, everything rested on this presentation and he had to nail it.

Crowley cleared his throat and lifted the first page of the pad, revealing the title card of his presentation. He slammed his pointer against the paper, moving it along each word as he read them out. “The twelve reasons you should date Anthony J. Crowley, by Anthony J. Crowley.” He moved his pointer to his chest. “That’s me.”

Aziraphale gave him a little encouraging smile, picking up on his nervousness. Gabriel just leaned back, hands folded before him. The very picture of a business man in a business meeting. Crowley gulped and flipped the paper.

“Reason one. He’s cool. See exhibit A.” He stepped away a bit, gesturing one hand over his body. He flipped the paper. “Reason two. He’s hot. Refer back to exhibit A.”

He gestured over himself again and Aziraphale chuckled softly. He slid around, sitting down gently on Gabriel’s lap, Gabriel wrapping his arms around him and holding him close. 

Crowley’s body shook a bit more watching that. Because all he wanted to do was climb up into that embrace and be a part of it. And if he messed this up, he would never get the chance.

“Reason three,” he said, flipping the paper. “He’s good at cuddling.” He very nearly just went over there to prove it, but he had to get through the rest of the reasons first. There was more to dating him than just cuddling, after all. “Reason four, he’s fun company, as I’m sure you all know well.” He winked. Well, he tried to wink but he was so nervous it came out more like a little face twitch.

He shook his head. Keep it together, he told himself. If he didn’t, he’d lose them for sure. “R-reason five. He has soft hair.” And here, below the words, Crowley had drawn his hair in a soft pastel, because if he tried to let them touch his hair at that point he might actually just melt. “Reason six. He is talented.” 

To prove that, he had painted a few flowers around the page in a little border. Aziraphale gasped softly, Crowley waiting a bit as his eyes scanned over the page. Gabriel had transferred to a half-smile, still looking professional and business like, but with a happy fondness in his eyes that stilled Crowley’s shake.

“Reason seven. He is a good kisser.” He had originally planned to want to kiss them to prove it again, but he couldn’t move. So he just said, “As I’m sure you have learned by now.” Another throat clear. Just to give him a moment to fight the blush. “Reason eight. He’s super romantic.”

At this, Aziraphale raised one of his hands. Actually raised it. Crowley stared at it and the shake came back. “Uh. Yes?”

“Crowley, may I just ask a quick question?” he said. Crowley nodded, his neck stiff. 

“Who is this presentation for?” 

Crowley opened his mouth but Gabriel beat him to it. “I think he’s propositioning both of us.”

“Together?” Aziraphale asked. Crowley could only nod, his mouth gone dry. Aziraphale smiled and shifted his seat a bit. “Do continue.”

Crowley licked his lips but his voice still came out a little dry and sticky. “Reason nine. He is not clingy.”

Aziraphale opened his mouth, one finger raised to argue.

“Please hold all further questions until the end,” Crowley said, cutting him off. Because yes it wasn’t entirely true as they knew him. But once he was actually in a relationship it would be different. Of that he was certain.

“Reason ten. He is dumb, but in a cute way,” Crowley continued, Aziraphale’s smile growing. “Reason eleven. He is super attentive.” He stared them both down, eyes wide. 

“And reason twelve?” Gabriel asked, with a voice that hinted at him not being entirely convinced. 

Crowley frowned, his body slumping a bit. He knew there was a chance this wasn’t going to work. But coming face to face with that probability worried him. It really wasn’t going to work. It didn’t matter if Aziraphale wanted this. If Crowley wanted this. This was about the three of them, and Gabriel, it seemed, did not want it.

Crowley halfheartedly flipped the paper over, not even able to muster the courage or energy to read the last page. It said: Reason twelve. He can and will murder anyone who hurts you, with a sketch of him hitting Sandalphon with a shovel. He just shrugged, hanging his head and waiting for one or both of them to kick him out already.

He heard some shifting about, a few whispers, more shifting. He closed his eyes, because he could feel tears stinging at them. He couldn’t cry. Not now. He could hold it in, wait until he was back at Michael and Uriel’s. Then he could lament about the loss of true love and how his life was worthless now, or rather, more than it was before. 

Then there was walking, and a familiar warm hand on his chin, tilting his head up. Crowley followed, looking up into Aziraphale’s blue eyes. He was smiling. “My dear,” he said, his voice soft. 

Crowley’s body stilled under his touch. He scanned his face for clues as to what ‘my dear’ meant. Was it a pitiful one, a ‘sorry to have to do this but get out’? Or was it something else?

It was clearly something else, he figured, as Aziraphale’s hand tugged, pulling Crowley’s face closer, their lips pressing together. His body shivered again, one, powerful jerk as a chill ran down his spine. Kissing Aziraphale was like falling through a cloud. All soft and cool and wonderful. But it always ended too soon. Crowley could kiss Aziraphale for a hundred years and still need more.

He blinked at Aziraphale when they separated, because he simply couldn’t believe it. He still sort of expected this to end in disaster. For Aziraphale to have meant that as a parting gift. But he didn’t say anything about that. He just smiled, moving the hand up to his cheek, thumb brushing over his skin.

Crowley’s body flushed because it was really happening. Aziraphale was going to be his. But it was more than that. It was more than Crowley ever expected, ever wanted before. Because now, theoretically, _Gabriel_ was also his. Nearly a year ago he never could have imagined. And he was so incredibly happy.

“I have to make it even, right?” he asked, eyebrows raising at Aziraphale now that things had settled, had been settled, and he knew he was safe. 

Aziraphale glanced over his shoulder at Gabriel. He nodded. “Yes, rather. I think you do.”

Crowley nodded and steeled himself, his legs still shaking as he walked over to the desk. He felt a little ill, maybe some anxiety poisoning. Gabriel didn’t move, just continued to lean back in his chair and look at Crowley with an analytical eye. 

Crowley glanced back at Aziraphale, to make sure this was okay. Make sure this wasn’t just a Gabriel letting them be together kind of thing. (Which would have been good. Maybe not as great as having both of them, but certainly something he would take). Aziraphale just nodded, which did little to ease his fears.

Gabriel certainly didn’t help, just sitting there, that half-smile on his face as he waited. What did they expect him to do? Just climb in his lap and kiss him? Not that Crowley wouldn’t have loved that. But maybe not _now_.

Instead, he held out his hand. Gabriel took it and Crowley pulled him up, wishing the big idiot would wear some kind of emotion on his face. He could almost always tell what Aziraphale was thinking, was feeling, but Gabriel was a lot harder to read. And Crowley always did like a challenge.

Crowley tugged, bringing Gabriel closer, reaching a hand up to the back of his head, kissing him. It was the first time they kissed without Crowley being inebriated, and it was a wonderfully strange sensation. Gabriel, as it turned out, was actually a damn good kisser. Crowley could see, now, why Aziraphale had married him. 

And Aziraphale was smiling when they pulled away. And his eyes were a little wet, a little teary, a little on the edge of crying.

“You okay?” Crowley asked, genuinely worried. He wasn’t sure if he would ever stop being worried. He wondered if he would ever feel confident enough to be secure in this...relationship. He was in a relationship. 

Holy shit.

Aziraphale sniffed and rubbed his eyes on the back of his sleeve. “Yes. I’m fine. I’m just...I’m happy. I...I can’t believe that...that you, that we…” he chuckled, tears dripping onto his cheek.

Gabriel held his free hand out (Crowley had not let go of the other), and Aziraphale walked over, grabbing it. Gabriel pulled him close, until he was sandwiched between the two of them. Crowley crowded closer, resting his head on Aziraphale’s shoulder. Because he too was so overcome with joy he worried he might overload on emotions himself. 

He felt Gabriel’s hands on his arms, reaching around Aziraphale so he could hug them both close to him. Crowley never figured he would end up with one person to love, let alone two. Let alone Aziraphale. Let alone Gabriel. It was all so strange and weird and honestly, he wouldn’t be surprised if he woke up and this was all a dream. He’d be depressed, but not surprised.

Because something as wonderful and as grand as this, couldn't be real.


	26. Figuring it out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh nooo we're getting so cloooose!   
I kinda want to finish it this week but!!! What will I do without you all every day??😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Aziraphale nearly slipped, reaching out to grab Crowley’s other arm. Crowley just held him up, hands on his waist, giving him an encouraging smile. It wasn’t fair. Crowley could do this backwards, and Aziraphale could barely even stand up without falling.

“You’re doing great,” Crowley said. 

Aziraphale was sure the idiot was smiling, but he couldn’t see. He was too busy looking down, watching his ankles struggle as he tried to find balance on the thin blades sliding against the icy lake beneath them.

“You actually do this for fun?” Aziraphale asked, huffing out a laugh as he nearly fell again, Crowley’s hands on his body the only thing keeping him together. 

“Once you get used to it,” Crowley said.

Aziraphale finally looked up, his legs shaking from the effort. “I think I need a break.”

Crowley nodded and held on tight, maneuvering them expertly until they were at solid ground, where Gabriel was sitting on a blanket, watching them. Crowley helped Aziraphale down, letting him fall onto the blanket next to Gabriel.

“Having fun?” Gabriel asked. He smiled, almost a smirk, and handed Aziraphale a thermos. 

Aziraphale smiled back, shivering a bit and drinking his cocoa with pleasure. Crowley fell to the ground next to him, not even bothering with the blanket, just letting himself get covered in snow. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to give it a try?” Aziraphale asked Gabriel. He had agreed to go with them to the lake, but had insisted he wouldn’t try to skate on it. He had gotten Aziraphale a nice new pair of skates, however. 

“I think I’m okay,” Gabriel said. He placed his hand over Aziraphale’s, nice and warm on his skin. 

“Ah, come on,” Crowley said. He leaned up on his elbows, looking over at them. “It’ll be fun.” He waggled his eyebrows.

Aziraphale chuckled. “Who knows, maybe you’ll be better at it than me?”

Gabriel shook his head. “I’m certain I won’t.”

Aziraphale shrugged and looked over at Crowley. He did wish that Gabriel would give it a shot, he might actually enjoy it. And he was much more in shape than Aziraphale so he’d probably be better at it anyway. But he wasn’t going to force it. He was just glad Gabriel had come to spend the day with them. He had taken some time off of work for what they had planned to be an actual visit with his family. But he was going back to work tomorrow and Aziraphale had gotten quite used to his company.

“I know what’ll get you out there,” Crowley said, delightful smirk on his face as he turned his eyes to Aziraphale. 

He reached over, leaning up on one arm and grabbing Aziraphale’s face, pulling him down into a kiss. It was warm and soft and Aziraphale closed his eyes, allowing himself to enjoy it. 

Crowley pulled away and winked at Gabriel as he struggled to his feet. “Gotta make it even right?” He glided out to the middle of the lake, turning around expertly, hands on his hips, smiling at them.

Aziraphale wrung his hands together. Crowley had been very good at avoiding talking all of yesterday. Aziraphale had tried to get him to sit and just go through everything: his expectations for this relationship, what he wanted, what he didn’t want, everything one needed to know to function together. But Crowley had not been amenable, and deflected each attempt expertly. 

Gabriel rolled his eyes. 

“What’s the matter?” Crowley asked. “Scared?”

Gabriel shook his head. He looked at Aziraphale, face exasperated. “Can I borrow your skates?”

Aziraphale nodded, eager to see how Gabriel did. The skates would be a bit tight on him but they still fit. And Aziraphale slipped his feet into Gabriel’s shoes, wiggling his toes in the warmth of them. 

Gabriel, as it turns out, did pretty well. Aziraphale watched in amazement as Gabriel slid over to Crowley with ease, his legs and body straight and steady as he moved. Crowley’s eyes shot open wide as he realized that Gabriel could actually skate. He turned and zipped away, Gabriel sighing visibly before chasing after him.

Aziraphale’s amusement turned back to worry as he thought over what Crowley had said. This whole ‘even amount of kissing’ was cute. And it had been adorable yesterday. But Aziraphale genuinely worried that Crowley believed that was how it had to work. And it wasn’t. He could kiss either of them as many times as he wanted, without having to worry about it. That was the fun of them being in a relationship. If only Crowley would shut up for a few minutes and listen to Aziraphale.

Aziraphale would just have to wait. It would be better tomorrow. With Gabriel off at work Aziraphale could monopolize Crowley’s time, and get the information out of him he needed.

Gabriel caught up to Crowley, reaching out and grabbing his arm. This, of course, caused Crowley to slip, falling down, pulling Gabriel with him. Aziraphale jumped to his feet, watching them, waiting to see if they required any medical assistance.

But Crowley was laughing, too busy doing so to move himself off of Gabriel. And Gabriel was smiling, so Aziraphale knew they were okay. And then Gabriel grabbed Crowley’s face and claimed his prize, pulling him down into a kiss. They were all okay.

-

Aziraphale’s plan wasn’t particularly nice. But it would work. So he didn’t care. 

“Crowley, dear,” he said, peeking his head into the drawing room. “Could you help me with something?”

Crowley looked over his shoulder, putting his paper and pencil down. “Sure, what’s up?”

Aziraphale led him up to the office, pointing at the typewriter. “I think the ribbon got jammed, and I can’t get it out.”

“Don’t worry,” Crowley said, smirking at him. “I’ll fix it for you.”

Aziraphale smiled back, shifting over to the pile of rope he had stashed. He waited until Crowley sat down, his hands pushing and pulling around the typewriter as he looked for the snag. Aziraphale took the opportunity and tossed the rope over Crowley’s body pulling it and him back, tying him to the chair.

“Uh, Aziraphale,” Crowley said, testing the binds that would not break. “Not that I’m not totally into this but, uh, shouldn’t we use the bedroom?”

Aziraphale chuckled at him and sat himself up on the desk, arms crossed. He would not let Crowley’s cute ways sway him. They needed to talk. “This isn’t about that.”

“Oh?” Crowley’s face fell a little, then furrowed in confusion. “Then uh,” he looked down at the rope. “What’s with the rope?”

“I need to talk with you,” Aziraphale said. “And I need you to be honest and truthful with me.”

“Don’t those two words mean the same thing? Little redundant, don’t you think?”

“Stop avoiding it,” Aziraphale said. He would not let Crowley derail him. “This is important.”

Crowley gulped and his body deflated against the chair. “Yeah. Alright. Just make it quick.”

“Make what quick?”

Crowley sighed and looked away. “It was a mistake. You regret it. You want me to leave. I get it.”

Aziraphale frowned, his heart breaking for Crowley. This is why they should have talked about it earlier. He shook his head and got off the desk, moving to sit on Crowley’s lap. Crowley’s head snapped to attention.

“It was not a mistake, I don’t regret it, and I don’t want you to leave.” He placed a hand on Crowley’s cheek, turning his head for a kiss. 

“You don’t?” Crowley asked as soon as Aziraphale released him.

Aziraphale shook his head. “Not even a little.”

“Then uh...what did you want to talk about?”

“Well, for starters, I need you to know that you don’t have to go kissing Gabriel now, okay? You can kiss each of us as often as you want without worry.”

“As often as I want?” Crowley asked. Aziraphale nodded and Crowley smirked pressing forward and kissing Aziraphale again. 

Aziraphale closed his eyes and placed a hand on the back of Crowley’s head, fingers curling through his hair. Crowley really was a good kisser. But he pulled away reluctantly. There was still more to talk about.

“Stop trying to distract me,” Aziraphale chided. 

“But I don’t wanna talk,” Crowley argued. He kept trying to kiss him so Aziraphale had to be the bigger person and get up, moving away so he couldn’t reach. Crowley huffed. “You’re mean.”

“We need to figure out what all of this means, okay?”

Crowley tested the chair, spinning a bit, probably trying to see if he could break it to escape. “Shouldn’t Gabriel be here for this?”

“I’ve already talked to him for what he wants. What we need to know is what you want.”

Crowley squinted up at him. “What I want?” Aziraphale nodded. “That...that’s what this is about?”

“Of course. We’re going to talk about our expectations and then come to a unanimous decision on how this will all work.”

Crowley looked him up and down. “That sounds like a rather healthy way to deal with a relationship. Who are you and what did you do with Aziraphale?”

Aziraphale chuckled. “I’m still me,” he assured him. In fact, he felt more like himself than he had since the incident. “And I want to know what you want.”

Crowley took a deep breath. “Well, uh...you know. You. And-and Gabriel.” He shrugged. “Do we really have to talk and figure this out? Can’t we just...see how it goes?”

Aziraphale sat himself back up on desk. “How would you like it to go?”

“Uh. I don’t know.”

“I think you do. When you think about the future, what do you see?”

Crowley’s eyes finally looked into Aziraphale’s. “I never really thought about the future before. But, uhm...I certainly want you there. Gabriel too. I dunno I guess it’s alright if Michael and Uriel stuck around too. Although I don't think the future would miss Hastur much.”

Aziraphale chuckled. Everything was so simple for Crowley. He didn’t think about how things would work he just went with the flow. Aziraphale would love to be able to do that. To not worry about how to organize dates and time spent together. To not worry about how things would work, just knowing that they would. 

He got back down and reached behind the chair, undoing the tie and letting Crowley get up. If he didn’t have any expectations, Aziraphale supposed that he would be okay with what they settled on.

Crowley stood up, stretching a bit before grabbing Aziraphale’s waist and pulling him into a kiss. Aziraphale rolled his eyes and let them kiss. There was plenty of time to figure out the future. In the future. Today he was going to live in the present with his husband and their new boyfriend.

-

That night, he lay in bed next to Gabriel, thinking about how Crowley was just down the hall. It was a thought that excited him. It was a thought that wasn’t nearly as exciting as if Crowley was sleeping next to them. Said thought made him uncomfortably hot and he carefully folded the covers over so he could cool off.

“You okay?” Gabriel asked. He shifted, turning on his side.

“Sorry,” Aziraphale whispered. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I was still up.” Gabriel shifted again, sitting up in bed. “Can’t sleep.” He slid back, resting against the headboard. Aziraphale moved up to sit next to him.

“Oh?” he asked. “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing specific.”

Aziraphale leaned his head on Gabriel’s shoulder. Gabriel kissed the top of his head.

“What about you?” Gabriel asked. “What’s got you so bothered?”

There were many things that bothered Aziraphale. But chief among them was his feelings. Because truth be told, he loved Crowley. But he couldn’t say that. He couldn’t tell anyone. Not until he came to terms with his other feelings of love first.

“I have something to admit to you,” he said. He closed his eyes. He knew he needed to do it. But it was still hard. A little easier than he anticipated, but still difficult. Probably because of how long he’s been putting it off.

“What’s that?”

Aziraphale took a deep breath. Best to just say it and get it over with. “I’ve been lying to you. For a long time now. A few years.” Gabriel didn’t say anything which made it worse and better. On the one hand, Aziraphale was able to continue without interruption, on the other, he had no idea how Gabriel felt about this admission. “The truth is...I love you. And I have. For...a while.”

He kept his eyes closed but he could feel Gabriel move. An arm wrapped around his shoulders and Gabriel pulled him closer. 

“Aziraphale,” he said. For a moment Aziraphale steeled himself for the worst. For anger and resentment. But all there was was a kiss to his head. “Thank you.”

Aziraphale pulled away, sitting up straight so he could look at his husband in confusion. “Y-you’re welcome? I’m sorry, why are you thanking me?”

“All I’ve ever wanted to hear you say were those words.” His smile was so soft. He reached out, a hand brushing across Aziraphale’s cheek. “And now you have.”

“But-but aren’t you mad? I lied to you! For years! I should have told you the second I knew but I didn’t!”

“When exactly did you know?”

“I’m not sure but it was a long time ago!” The truth was, he knew exactly when. It was a few weeks after they had gotten married. Aziraphale spent most of his time in their little apartment they had rented out, a stepping stone until they could afford a proper place to live. He spent his time alone and sad. It wasn’t a particularly good time in his life.

But one day Gabriel had come home with a gift for him. His first journal. Because Gabriel had recalled how Aziraphale mentioned wanting to maybe write, back when they were courting. And Gabriel figured he should. And it would give him something to do all day. 

Literature was Aziraphale’s life force. It was what kept him going, what kept him alive on the worst of days. And Gabriel had just handed him the key to it all. And how was Aziraphale not supposed to love him after that?

“I should have told you,” he repeated. “And I’m sorry.”

Gabriel pulled him down, kissing him softly. “I don’t care that you didn’t say anything, Aziraphale. I’m just glad that it’s true.”

“It is true,” Aziraphale said. He kissed him again. “Truer than anything. I love you so much.” He felt a swelling in his chest, a great rush of relief at saying it. And being able to say it without hesitation. He leaned over, body twisting oddly as he hugged Gabriel tight, tried to prove it by pressing against him with all his strength.

“I love you, too,” Gabriel said. Even though he didn’t need to, because he already had. He hugged Aziraphale back, hands rubbing over him in a soothing motion. 

Aziraphale relaxed against him. Even the best case scenario hadn’t been this good in his head. He had expected Gabriel to be at least upset a little. At least at the fact that Aziraphale had lied. Had held back. Had not given him the very thing he needed all those years. 

And how good their life could have been if Aziraphale had just admitted it. If he had just said ‘I love you’ and kissed Gabriel right then, the notebook still in his hands. How better would their relationship be if he made Gabriel more secure in his loyalty. 

How different, he wondered, would things have gone with Crowley?

“You’re thinking too much,” Gabriel said, placing a kiss on Aziraphale’s forehead. 

“I always am,” Aziraphale said. “Gabriel, may I ask you something?”

“You can ask me anything you want, whenever you want.”

Aziraphale smiled, though he didn’t dare pull himself away. He could not stand to look at Gabriel while he said this. “Do you think...I mean...do you suppose it would be alright...could we maybe one day…” he bit his lip. He thought this would have been easier than saying ‘I love you’ but clearly the flip of his stomach proved him wrong.

“You want to sleep with Crowley,” Gabriel guessed. Correct as per usual.

Aziraphale gulped, his body heating up again, the closeness of Gabriel certainly not helping. He nodded.

“Well,” Gabriel said. “As long as we’re being honest…” Gabriel cleared his throat and Aziraphale felt him tense under him. “That was sort of what was keeping me up.”

Aziraphale didn’t know if he should laugh or not but a chuckle escaped either way. “I think in that case, we’d better go get him, huh?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And fade to black 😏  
Also yeah I'm probably gonna make a NSFW companion with these two scenes


	27. Dramatic Climax

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess the plus side of discord being down is I got this finished earlier than anticipated :D  
I can't believe we thought it would be that easy we are fools!  
And there's only one chapter left I'm so sad 😭

Crowley was rarely happy when he woke up. The idea of still being alive in the morning usually filled him with dread. The last couple of weeks only left him feeling indifferent about the whole ‘existing’ thing. But that day, waking up with his arms around Aziraphale’s waist, nose pressed to the back of his neck, both of their heads resting on Gabriel’s arm; happy didn’t even come close.

He snuggled in closer, breathing in the scent of Aziraphale as the early morning light filtered blue through the curtains. He peeled his eyes open and looked over at Gabriel, who was looking right back at him. He jumped a little on the inside, careful not to wake Aziraphale.

“Good Morning,” Gabriel said, his voice a whisper over Aziraphale’s head.

“Hey,” Crowley said. He still felt a little bit like maybe this wasn’t real. Or that Gabriel would change his mind. Or that Aziraphale would. Or that Crowley would do something dumb like he always does. He gulped. “Has your arm been there all night?”

Gabriel nodded. “Can’t feel a thing,” he said.

Crowley chuckled. “Here, let me help.” He carefully slid his arm out from under Aziraphale and leaned up on his elbow, arm tingling a bit at being free. He reached up, gently grabbing Aziraphale’s head and lifting it up a bit so Gabriel could squirm his arm out. Crowley lowered Aziraphale’s head to the pillow while Gabriel rubbed his arm to get the blood flowing again.

“You got work today?” Crowley asked. He knew that Gabriel did, but he was kind of hoping he would take off again. Which was funny. Because Crowley used to wish he was at work all the time. And now he wanted him to quit. 

“Yes,” Gabriel confirmed. He looked down at Aziraphale, his good hand moving over to brush gentle fingers over his cheek. “But I’ll go in late. We should both be here when he wakes up.”

Crowley nodded and settled himself back down behind Aziraphale, pressing soft kisses to the skin of his shoulder. “Do me a favor,” he whispered up to Gabriel. “Lie and tell me this wasn’t a one time thing.”

Gabriel’s smile was soft and cute. “Can’t lie about the truth.”

Crowley blushed and pulled himself closer, burying his face in Aziraphale’s neck. He had hoped, of course, that it wasn’t a one time deal. But hearing it actually confirmed was a bit much. He felt the bed shift as Aziraphale mumbled and shifted beneath him. Crowley pulled back a little but Aziraphale was already awake.

“Good morning,” he mumbled, his voice slurred and muffled. He sighed and shuffled closer to Gabriel, nudging his head against Gabriel’s shoulder. 

“Good morning,” Gabriel greeted. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Aziraphale’s forehead. 

Aziraphale smiled and rolled onto his back. He turned that smile to Crowley and he swore he could die right then and there as the happiest man alive. “And good morning to you, too,” Aziraphale said.

Crowley couldn’t even talk, because all he wanted to do was wrap himself around Aziraphale and kiss him. So that’s exactly what he did. They only parted when the bed dipped beside them, Gabriel climbing to his feet.

“Hey,” Aziraphale said, reaching out but unable to reach him. “Where are you going?”

“I have to get ready for work,” Gabriel said. 

Aziraphale frowned but said nothing more as Gabriel shuffled off to the dressing room. He rolled to his side, pressing his face to the side of Crowley’s neck. 

“Yeah,” Crowley said, holding him close. “I agree. He should totally quit his job.”

Aziraphale laughed softly and snuggled closer. “We should get up,” he said. “Go eat with him.”

“Yeah, but will we?”

Aziraphale made a noise and shook his head. Crowley kissed him and closed his eyes, enjoying everything he ever wanted. Then the door opened again and everything he never knew he wanted returned, dressed and ready for the day. Crowley groaned. How did Gabriel ever manage to be so awake in the morning?

“Have a good day,” Gabriel said. 

Aziraphale rolled away from Crowley’s embrace and sat up a bit. Gabriel ran a hand through his hair and then leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. Aziraphale laid back, smiling at him as he turned to leave.

“Hold up,” Crowley said, sitting up himself, glaring a bit because how dare he. “What? I gotta marry you to get a good-bye kiss?”

Gabriel stared at him for a moment, a little surprised. “Oh. Sorry.” He walked back over and as soon as he was within reach Crowley grabbed his face and pulled him into a kiss. He made sure it was a good one, too. He had all day to kiss Aziraphale but he’d have to wait hours to kiss Gabriel again.

Gabriel’s face was slightly red when Crowley let him go. And he cleared his throat as he stood up. “Don’t cause any trouble,” he said, looking pointedly at Crowley before leaving.

Crowley laughed and fell back to the bed, pressed against Aziraphale. “This is gonna be fun,” he said. Aziraphale smiled and shifted so he could lay his head on Crowley’s shoulder. Fun indeed.

-

Crowley had been right. It was fun. Aziraphale didn’t think he could enjoy his life so much. But here he was, married to Gabriel, dating Crowley, sleeping peacefully between them night after night. He had stopped worrying so much about everything. He still insisted that they went to parties, but they went with Crowley and the two of them had fun while Gabriel mingled. And Gabriel seemed happier these days, too.

Gabriel’s firm had a very special client contact them from the city. He was supposed to go in and meet with them, being one of the top partners they had. He had invited Aziraphale and Crowley along to enjoy the city with him. Aziraphale had turned him down, because really as much as he enjoyed having Crowley around all the time he really needed to get some work done on his next book. (The last one had been quite the hit, and ending it with Dan calling the prince by his real name before kissing him really made the demand for a follow up rather intense).

He did, however, insist that Crowley go with him. They had so little time to be alone together and he figured it would be a good bonding experience. And he would be left totally alone to work. He wasn’t particularly happy to wake up alone that day, but Bentley made him his favorite breakfast and a lovely batch of tea for the day ahead so it wasn’t all that bad.

They would be back that night, so as much as Aziraphale would have liked to spend a quiet day reading, he forced himself to get his writing done. And his writing done he got. He let Bentley go home early. After all, he wouldn’t want much for dinner and Crowley and Gabriel would probably eat on the train home. He spent his evening reading, waiting, and listening for his loves to return home.

What he did hear was a knock at the door.

Aziraphale shook his head and went to answer it. It was probably Crowley, hands too busy carrying some ridiculously large thing he had bought in the city to open the door. But Aziraphale’s smile fell when he opened the door. Because the person on the other side was most definitely not Crowley.

-

Crowley had been a bit worried about the trip to the city. After all, it was just going to be the two of them. Crowley and Gabriel. It turned out to be a fairly good trip, actually. Gabriel was kind of fun when he let himself be. Crowley got to hang out around the city while Gabriel worked, and even though he wished he was there with Aziraphale, he still enjoyed himself.

“We have to do that more often,” he told Gabriel as they walked up to the door of their house. “And next time we are making Aziraphale go with us.”

“A task more easily said,” Gabriel reminded him. 

He opened the door, eyebrows furrowing a bit. Crowley wasn’t sure why he looked so surprised at the door. He just rushed in, heading up to the office and calling out Aziraphale’s name. Gabriel’s surprise just meant he would get to kiss Aziraphale first. 

But Aziraphale wasn’t in the office. So Crowley checked the bedroom in case he went to sleep early. But he wasn’t there either. Clearly he must have been in the kitchen, having a bit of dessert. Maybe he’d let Crowley share it with him. But Aziraphale wasn’t in the kitchen either. 

His heart beating irregularly in his chest, Crowley raced across the hall to check the drawing room. Aziraphale wasn’t there either and Gabriel was being not helpful as he stood in the foyer, staring at the still open door.

“He’s not here,” Crowley announced. He could feel the panic rising in his chest but he wouldn’t allow himself to give into it. “M-maybe he got lonely! Went over to Michael and Uriel’s?”

“The door was unlocked,” Gabriel said.

“Well, he probably just forgot. Come on.”

Crowley didn’t wait, he ran out of the house and down the street. He had to just be visiting with them. It was the only thing that made sense. Aziraphale wouldn't just leave. Not by himself. And whatever alternative Gabriel had been suggesting made Crowley sick.

The door was locked, of course, as good doors should be. And Crowley’s key he had never been asked for back was not with him. He banged his fist against the door, annoyed with how no one seemed to be waiting right next to doors these days. Gabriel was slowly walking up the lane behind him.

“What?” Uriel asked, throwing the door open, Crowley’s hand still knocking against empty air for a moment. 

“Is Aziraphale here?” Crowley asked. He pushed his way in. “What am I saying? Of course he’s here, where is he?” He didn’t wait for an answer, strolling through and peeking his head in every room. 

He nearly ran into the library cause if Aziraphale was going to be anywhere it was there. He wasn’t. But Michael was, pouring herself a drink and looking at him confused. “Crowley?” she asked. “Was that you making all that racket?”

“Where is he?” Crowley asked. He grabbed her by the arms, shaking her more from his own shake than anything else. 

“What are you talking about?” Michael shrugged him off and stepped back. 

“Aziraphale’s missing,” Uriel said, entering the room with Gabriel in tow. 

“What?” Michael asked. She looked between the three of them.

“He’s not missing,” Crowley hissed at them. “He’s just...out somewhere.”

“The door was unlocked,” Gabriel said.

“So he forgot!” Crowley said. He was a little concerned that Gabriel was so composed. But he was more concerned with the truth behind his words. 

“Let’s not jump to any conclusions,” Michael said. She placed a steady hand on Crowley’s arm, calming him slightly. “Did the door look like it had been forced open?”

Gabriel shook his head. “No. It was just open.”

“So he probably answered it,” Uriel said. “Must have been someone he knew.”

“Who?” Gabriel asked. “Everyone he knows is in this room.”

Crowley clapped his hands together because it made sense. He jumped up excitedly. “The party people!” he exclaimed. “Yeah! One of them must have come to visit and they went out somewhere. They’re probably in town right now!”

He raced out of the room, Gabriel trying to grab him by the arm but too slow to get a good grip, Crowley slipping out of his hold. He didn’t want to wait or sit around and theorize over things. He wanted to go out there and _find_ him. 

He heard the others following him a moment after but he wasn’t going to let them slow him down, determined steps leading him to town. And they didn’t slow him down. They stopped him. Well, Gabriel stopped him, finally getting a good hold of his arm and pulling him back.

“Crowley, you have to calm down,” he said. 

Crowley struggled to pull his arm free but Gabriel’s grip was too tight. “I am perfectly calm,” he said through clenched teeth. “You’re the one who’s not calm. Why are you so calm!?”

“Panicking is not going to help,” Gabriel said, his voice even and tempered. “If we’re going to find Aziraphale we need to keep a clear head.”

Crowley didn’t know how he could be expected to stay calm and level headed when the love of his life was missing and they had no idea where he could be and any number of terrible things could happen or be happening to him and-

Gabriel pulled Crowley over, wrapping his arms around him in a hug as tears slipped their way out. Crowley balled his hands into fists and shivered, biting the inside of his cheek so he wouldn’t cry more. 

“We are going to find him,” Gabriel whispered. 

“Yeah,” Crowley croaked out, nodding. “I’m sorry. I should have been here with him. I shouldn’t have left him alone. I promised I would always be there and I wasn’t.”

“Stop,” Gabriel said. “This isn’t your fault. I should have just made him go with us.”

“No, he had to work. And I should have been there with him.”

“Consider this,” Uriel said, leaning out of the carriage that she and Michael had just pulled up in. “You’re both idiots and this was neither of your faults. Now get in.”

Crowley dried his eyes on the heel of his hands and climbed in after Gabriel. He kept his eyes on the road, in case they saw Aziraphale walking back towards home. His leg bounced and Gabriel placed a reassuring hand on his knee. It didn’t help.

-

Aziraphale’s hand shook as he poised the pen over the paper. He was trying to think. It was a bit hard, with Sandalphon pacing behind him, footsteps heavy on the creaking floor.

“I haven’t got all night,” Sandalphon said.

“Sorry,” Aziraphale whispered. “I’m just having trouble finding the words.”

“Honestly. It’s not that hard.” Sandalphon stopped his pacing and strode up to the desk, arms crossed as he stared down at Aziraphale. “Dear Gabriel, I don’t love you, I’m leaving, yada yada yada go home, Aziraphale.”

“You said you wanted it to sound authentic,” Aziraphale said, avoiding looking up at him. “I need time.”

Sandalphon huffed and walked away, sitting down on the bed. They were at an inn, and Aziraphale shivered as he looked back down at the paper before him. Sandalphon hadn’t been entirely cruel. All Aziraphale had to do was convince Gabriel that he was gone and to return home and Sandalphon would continue to keep him comfortable in this room for the rest of his life.

A tear slipped down the side of Aziraphale’s nose, dropping onto the paper, staining it with a splash. He sniffed and continued to work out his problem. He had to find a way to say in his letter what he needed to say while making it seem like he was doing with Sandalphon said. He had to think up some kind of code that would alert Gabriel and Crowley to his predicament without letting on to Sandalphon that he was doing such a thing.

But he was way too stressed to figure it out. All he could do was panic. Panic at the concept of losing them. He had finally been having a good life, and now it was all at risk of ruin. And it was up to him to fix it, to come up with an idea that would get him out of this scrap.

He looked up at the window, wishing the blinds weren’t drawn so he could stare out at the town and help calm his mind. 

“That doesn’t look like you’re writing,” Sandalphon said, a threat unspoken in his voice.

Aziraphale shivered, nodded, and started to write.

-

“Okay,” Michael said as they all got out of the carriage. “Crowley and I will check the West, you guys head East, okay?”

They nodded and split up. Crowley hurried along, doing his best to keep the calm mind that Gabriel insisted he had. But it was hard when every building they checked didn’t have Aziraphale in it. He just got more and more worried.

“What if he’s not in town?” he said, hoping across the street to peer into the window of a closed store. “What if like, I don’t know what if he got on a train or something?” There were a hundred reasons Aziraphale would have done that and the only one that didn’t terrify Crowley was the idea that he had gone to the city because he missed them and they had just passed each other and he was already on the way home.

“You probably would have seen him at the platform,” Michael said. She followed after him, glancing up and down the street as he ran into every stop along the way.

“He could have gone earlier!”

“We’ve been over this, Crowley. Uriel saw Bentley leaving the house on her way home today. Everything was fine and Aziraphale was there.”

Crowley spun around, eyes wide. “Bentley’s in on it!” Michael gave him a look. He had to agree it was a bit of a wild speculation, but he couldn't be blamed. He was losing his mind and if they didn’t find Aziraphale soon he would have no chance at getting it back.

“Crowley,” a thick, lecherous voice said.

Crowley growled and turned around. Ligur stood on the street, face passive. 

“Not the time,” Crowley said. What the hell was he even doing back in this town anyway?

Ligur held up a hand. “I know where Aziraphale is,” he said.

Crowley’s body went numb. “What?”

Ligur rolled his eyes. “He’s at The Silver Lion. With Gabriel’s brother.”

“What!”

That was on the other side of town and he had to haul ass if he was going to get there anytime soon. Michael called after him but he ignored her. It didn’t even cross his mind that Ligur was lying to him, which was completely in the realm of possibility. All he knew was he had a lead on where Aziraphale was and he was going to find him.

His legs were shaking from all the running but he willed them to keep up. He passed Uriel in a blur, only hearing her call out his name before he was out of earshot again. The Silver Lion was just up ahead and it was sparsely populated. Crowley marched his way up to the owner, cleaning glasses behind the bar. He reached over and grabbed him by the front of the shirt, pulling him close.

“Short bald guy and incredibly attractive blond,” he growled. “Where are they?”

The man gulped and looked Crowley up and down, judging the intensity of him. And he was very, very intense. “Upstairs, second on the left.”

“Thank you.”

Crowley released him and ran up the stairs, skipping every other one in his trek to find Aziraphale. He heard three sets of feet following after him. He grabbed the knob of the second door, half-expecting it to just be open. Of course it wasn’t. He slammed against it with his shoulder, trying to break it down while calling out Aziraphale’s name.

“Move,” Gabriel said. He grabbed Crowley and spun him out of the way. He positioned himself in front of the door and slammed his foot into it, breaking the latch and sending it flying open.

Crowley would have time to be turned on by that later. In the moment all he could think about was Aziraphale as he raced in. 

“Aziraphale!” He called. But there was no response. Not from him or Sandalphon. The room was empty. He cursed kicked at the chair to the desk, sending it half-way across the room. His foot would hurt once the adrenaline settled down. “He’s not here.”

“Just calm down,” Michael said, out of breath as she stood in the hall with Uriel.

“That fucking liar!” Crowley said. He knew he should have thought it through. Clearly he had sent them on a wild goose chase while they did something else, moved Aziraphale someplace else. Because _of course_ Hastur was working with Sandalphon to make Crowley’s life miserable.

Crowley’s spiral of insanity came to a halt when he heard a bump. Everyone stood alert, waiting. The bump came again and Crowley spun around to the closet. The door was closed and it shifted as a third bump sounded. 

Crowley was over there in an instant, throwing the door open. Aziraphale was staring up at him, sitting on the ground. His hands were tied behind his back and a cloth was shoved in his mouth. Crowley fell to his knees with a mix of dread and relief. They had found him, but who knows what had happened before.

Aziraphale shook as Crowley freed him. Then he sobbed, throwing his arms around Crowley’s neck and holding him close. Crowley held him back and looked up to Gabriel, only to find he wasn’t there. Neither was Uriel. 

Michael leaned against the door. She pointed down the hall. “He came back and they chased after him,” she explained. Which was good. Gabriel would catch up to him and Uriel would beat him up. 

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said. Crowley looked back down, cradling Aziraphale to his chest.

“It’s okay,” he cooed. “You’re alright we’re here.”

Aziraphale sniffled and cuddled closer. “I want to go home.”

“Of course,” Crowley said. He stroked his hair and kissed the top of his head, a silent promise that he would never leave him again.


	28. Ready

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god. oh it's...it's here. that last chapter.  
I hope you all enjoy it <3 and thank you, again, so very much for reading. I love you guys so much and you have made writing this such a wonderful journey

Aziraphale woke up to comfort. Last night had been a bit of a blur. Crowley had wanted to take Aziraphale straight home after finding him, but Aziraphale insisted that he go to the station and give a statement. He wasn’t going to let Sandalphon get away because he was too worried or afraid to say anything. Gabriel had assured him he would ‘take care’ of it, and secure in the knowledge that that was true, Aziraphale let Crowley take him home. They had gone right to bed, Crowley holding Aziraphale in a tight hug, his body curled around him. And he was still there when Aziraphale woke up.

Aziraphale's body was a little stiff from not moving at all during the night. He wiggled slightly, trying to straighten out and stretch. Crowley startled awake, his body jolting as his eyes snapped open. They immediately focused on Aziraphale.

“Are you okay?” Crowley asked. He undid Aziraphale’s efforts, readjusting his grip and tightening his hold. His arms wrapped around Aziraphale’s shoulder and his legs tangled up with his as well. He pressed their foreheads together, Aziraphale’s focus blurry as he tried to look at him.

“I’m okay,” he whispered. He wiggled a bit. “Any chance I can get my arms back?”

“No.” Crowley just tightened his hold. “I am never letting go of you. Ever.”

Aziraphale chuckled and managed to move enough to look over his shoulder. The bed behind him was empty. “Where’s Gabriel? He came back last night, didn’t he?” 

“I don’t think he did, actually,” Crowley mumbled. Aziraphale shivered. “I’m sure he was probably just working on the case and stuff.”

“M-maybe he’s in his office,” Aziraphale suggested. Either home or work. He had to be. Any alternative was too much to handle.

“I’m sure he is,” Crowley confirmed. He pressed a kiss to Aziraphale’s forehead. “He just wants to make sure everything is taken care of for you.”

Aziraphale nodded and buried his face against Crowley’s chest. He let himself be smothered for a little while longer, because he was worried and tired and Crowley was soft and warm. They lay there in the quiet, the intensity of Crowley’s love pulsing in the hard beat of his heart that Aziraphale could feel. 

“I’m sorry,” Aziraphale mumbled. He rubbed his face against Crowley’s shirt and tried not to cry.

Crowley was quiet for a moment so Aziraphale tipped his head back, checking to make sure he hadn’t fallen asleep. “Sorry,” he said. “I’m just, having trouble figuring out what on Earth you could possibly be sorry about.”

“I let him take me,” Aziraphale said, his body shivering at the memory of it all. “I didn’t even try to stop him I-”

Crowley had moved one arm out from the embrace. He pressed his hand to Aziraphale’s mouth and his eyes were the most intense he’s ever seen. “You listen to me. This is absolutely in no way your fault. If I ever hear you say anything like that again I will...do something bad, trust you me.”

Aziraphale wiggled his own arms free and pulled Crowley’s hand away, placing it on his cheek. “Perhaps you’re right.”

“I am.”

Aziraphale smiled. Smiled because he knew Crowley. And he knew exactly what he was thinking. “But you have to promise you’ll understand that it’s not your fault, either.”

Crowley grumbled. “Fine. But I’m still never letting go of you. Ever.”

Aziraphale laughed again and tried to pull free. “I think that’ll make everyday activities rather difficult.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Crowley kissed Aziraphale’s forehead. 

“What about my writing? And your painting?”

Crowley shook his head. “This is our job now.”

Aziraphale smiled and closed his eyes. He would eventually need the use of his limbs, but for now he was content to let this be his life. He heard the door open and lifted his head to watch Gabriel slip in. His clothes were wrinkled, his hair distress, and his eyes were heavy and surrounded by dark circles. 

“Hey,” Gabriel whispered. 

His voice roused Crowley, who looked over his shoulder and said, “You look like shit.”

“Thanks.” Gabriel shook his head and climbed onto the bed, hovering over Aziraphale. “How are you?”

“I’m okay.” Aziraphale smiled as Gabriel bent down and kissed his cheek. “You do look like shit. Did you get any sleep?”

Gabriel shook his head and fell to the mattress behind Aziraphale. He snuggled up to him, arms snaking around him, pressing against Crowley’s. His legs tangled up with theirs as well, squishing Aziraphale between the two of them. Aziraphale squirmed and rocked and shifted until managed to get himself turned around, facing Gabriel with Crowley draped over his back. 

Aziraphale even got one arm free, reaching up and placing his hand on Gabriel’s wrinkled face. “Are you alright?” he asked in a whisper. He wanted to let Gabriel get some rest but he was so curious about how it was all going.

Gabriel smiled, his eyes still closed. He nodded and rested his forehead against Aziraphale’s. “I am now that you’re safe.”

Aziraphale smiled back and closed his own eyes, rubbing his thumb over Gabriel’s cheek. “Get some rest, love,” he said softly. “You’ve been working so hard for me.”

Gabriel just hummed out a note of agreement and Aziraphale watched over him as his breath became steady and he fell into a deep slumber. 

“He shouldn’t sleep in his clothes,” Aziraphale mumbled, careful not to wake him.

“Naughty, naughty,” Crowley whispered in his ear. 

Aziraphale nudged his leg back at him, trying not to laugh. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Sure it’s not.” Crowley kissed the back of Aziraphale’s neck and made no attempt to move. Aziraphale sighed and settled back down. Might as well try and get some more rest while they weren’t letting him go.

-

It didn’t matter how much Aziraphale complained, Crowley didn’t let him go. Ever. It was really quite frustrating because he couldn't even go to the bathroom alone.

“Honestly, dear,” he said, Crowley wrapping himself around him on the couch. “I don’t know what you think is going to happen but you can let go.”

Crowley shook his head and rested it on Aziraphale’s shoulder. “Nu-uh.”

Aziraphale sighed and ran fingers through Crowley’s hair. “How am I supposed to write if you’re all over me like this, hm?”

“Sit in my lap,” Crowley mumbled. “It’s comfortable, look.” He shifted up and pulled Aziraphale onto his lap, both of them laughing a bit as they got settled. 

Aziraphale wrapped his arms around Crowley’s neck and kissed his cheek. “Yes, darling. You are quite comfortable but not very conducive to work.”

“You shouldn’t be working anyway,” Crowley mumbled. He buried his face in Aziraphale’s neck, kissing it softly. “You suffered trauma. You need to rest.”

Aziraphale shook his head, about to argue, when Bentley entered carrying a tray of fresh tea and the mail. 

“Thank you,” Aziraphale said, taking the bundle from him. He flipped through them, tilting his head to the side so that Crowley had better access for his kissing. He saw his own name in the upper left corner of one of the letters and huffed softly as he pulled it out. 

“What’s that?” Crowley asked. He placed his chin on Aziraphale’s shoulder and looked down at it.

“Here.” Aziraphale handed it to him. Proud smile on his face. “Read it.”

Aziraphale waited eagerly, biting his lip as Crowley opened the letter with one hand (the other resting around Aziraphale). Crowley read over it, furrowed his eyebrows, and then read over it again.

“Clever, isn’t it?” Aziraphale asked, wiggling a bit. He was too eager to hear Crowley’s response. It wasn’t quite what he expected.

“Wow,” he said, swallowing hard. “You must have been really upset to make this many mistakes.”

“What?” Aziraphale sighed. “No, no! It’s a code!”

Crowley gave him a look and then glanced back at the paper. Aziraphale sighed and leaned closer, explaining how each mistake, when put together, told them what had happened. Crowley’s mouth opened and he let out a long, “oh. That is clever.”

Aziraphale smiled. “I know it’s a little silly, and I am so very glad you two found me so quickly. But, well, I was rather hoping I’d get to see it work out.”

Crowley chuckled and kissed his cheek. “You are adorable, you know that? You could always use it in a book.”

Aziraphale’s eyes lit up because, yes! What a fantastic idea! “You’re right,” he said. He kissed Crowley and smiled. “And I think I will.”

He went in for another kiss but was stopped by the sound of the door opening. He jumped just a little, chuckling nervously at his reaction as Crowley held him closer. It turned out to be nothing to fear, of course, as Gabriel walked into the room.

“Gabriel!” Aziraphale greeted. He tried to get up to go greet him properly but Crowley wouldn't let him move. “You’re home so early.”

Gabriel nodded and sat on the couch next to them. “Just waiting for some paperwork to get shuffled around.” He placed his hand on Aziraphale’s leg. “Thought I’d come by and check in.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. Honestly. They were both overreacting. “I’m fine,” he said. “But I would be finer if you would tell me what’s going on.”

Gabriel just gave him that soft, slightly pitiful smile and patted his leg saying, “It’s nothing you need to worry yourself about.”

Aziraphale huffed. “I demand to know what’s happening with everything and I demand to know now!”

“Yeah!” Crowley said. “We demand to know!”

Gabriel gave him a confused look. “Crowley, you already know everything.”

Aziraphale turned to him, betrayed. He slapped him on the arm. “You know?”

“Of course.” Crowley smirked. “Gabe’s very talkative.”

“More like you’re annoyingly persistent,” Gabriel mumbled.

“I am too!” Aziraphale said. “So save us all the trouble and tell me now!”

Gabriel groaned, running a hand down his face. “Very well.” He adjusted his seat to be more comfortable. “It’s taken some time but Sandalphon is going to jail.”

Aziraphale sat up. “Jail? I thought for sure your parents would have gotten him out some how.”

Gabriel smiled, all proud of himself. “They might have been able to buy his way out of one account of kidnapping. But that’s one of the perks of having once been close to my brother. I know all his secrets.” He tilted his head forward, smile turning devious. “And let’s just say he hasn’t exactly been an angel all his life.”

Aziraphale shivered, that look on Gabriel’s face sending a jolt of joy through his nerves. Crowley’s knee bounced and he said, “I know right? He’s hot.”

Aziraphale chuckled. Crowley was right. “That’s wonderful news, Gabriel. You must be working so hard.”

Gabriel shrugged, but his face did look weary. “It’s nothing.”

“And what about Hastur?” Aziraphale asked. Crowley growled. “He was working with him, wasn’t he?” He looked at Crowley. “What happened?”

“He lied his fucking ass off,” Crowley grumbled. “And those idiots believed him. I’d send him to jail right along side that piece of shit but whatever. I’m not the lawyer so _whatever_.”

Aziraphale looked to Gabriel for answers since Crowley was simply going to mope. 

“Hastur was given a plea bargain for his testimony,” Gabriel said. 

“A testimony? Surely my own would have been enough.”

“A testimony of extortion,” Gabriel elaborated. “He was working with Sandalphon because he had threatened harm to Ligur. Who then found out about everything and thankfully came and told us.”

“Allegedly,” Crowley mumbled.

Aziraphale’s head was spinning. He had never really met this Ligur, but the fact that he was married to that horribly man didn’t exactly prove this whole story true. He was inclined to agree with Crowley, that perhaps it had all been a story. But Ligur _had_ told Crowley where to find him. And the story did help put Sandalphon away. So Aziraphale figured it was best to let it go.

“Thank you for all you’ve done for me, dear,” Aziraphale said, placing his hand on Gabriel’s. 

Gabriel smiled and squeezed his thigh. “I’m just sorry all this had to happen in the first place.”

-

Crowley could practically feel the frustration radiating off of Aziraphale. But it didn’t matter. Crowley was seriously never going to let go. Not even as Aziraphale opened the door, welcoming Michael and Uriel in. Crowley had himself draped over Aziraphale’s back arms over his shoulders, hands on his chest. 

“You weren’t lying,” Michael said, chuckling as they made their way into the drawing room. It was the last of Sandalphon’s trial and he didn't stand a chance. They were all going to go and watch. (Crowley at least planned to point and laugh).

Aziraphale huffed, not sitting down. “No. I wasn’t.”

“I can help.” Uriel stood up and Crowley squinted at her, holding Aziraphale closer. She had that ‘I’m going to hit you now’ look and Crowley positioned himself so that Aziraphale was between them, blocking any blows she might have. Let her try and attack him now.

“Really, dear,” Aziraphale said, shrugging and wiggling. “I’m perfectly fine. Look. I’m here with Michael and Uriel so why don’t you got help Gabriel, hm?”

“Can’t get rid of me that easily,” Crowley muttered in Aziraphale’s ear. Not even the tantalizing prospect of an undressed Gabriel was going to get him to leave Aziraphale.

“Can’t get rid of you at all,” Aziraphale mumbled.

“Glad you’re coming to terms with it.” Crowley smiled and leaned over, kissing all over Aziraphale’s cheek. He was too busy kissing Aziraphale that he didn’t notice Michael getting up until he felt a tight pressure on his ear. 

Michael managed to successfully drag him away, nearly ripping his ear off in the process, while Uriel untangled Aziraphale and freed him. Crowley shivered, the lack of Aziraphale in his arms unnerving. 

Aziraphale let out a sigh of relief, fixing his clothes. “Thank you,” he said. 

“He’s in good hands,” Michael said, dragging Crowley to the hall. “Now go help Gabriel get ready. We’ll be late.”

Crowley rubbed his ear and scowled at them. He stepped out of view, but then peaked around the corner. He couldn’t just not watch Aziraphale at every moment of every day. What if something happened again?

“Thank you,” Aziraphale said again, sitting on the couches with them. “I love him but he’s really overreacting.”

“He’s just worried about you,” Michael said. “You did go through quite an ordeal.”

Aziraphale bit his lip and nodded. 

“What's wrong?” Uriel asked. 

“I just…” Aziraphale sighed and looked at them with down-turned eyes. “I feel a bit guilty.”

“Whatever for?” Michael asked before Crowley could burst in and grab Aziraphale by the coat and shake him.

“I feel guilty because I don’t feel like I went through all that much. I mean, yes. It was...terrifying in the moment. But...well…” Aziraphale took a deep breath and picked at his fingernails. “I know I should be scared about something happening again. But I’m not. Because I know that if it does they’ll fix it. Does that make sense?”

Crowley could hear the smile in Michael's voice. “It makes perfect sense Aziraphale. And it’s really sweet.”

“But why does that make you guilty?” Uriel asked. And Crowley leaned closer because he was curious too.

“They’re so worried about me,” Aziraphale said. “As you could tell. And I don’t know how to tell them that I’m really okay. They have every right to worry, and I don’t want to put that sort of pressure on them.”

Crowley smiled and finally turned to leave. Aziraphale would be fine. Because he was right. If anything did happen, they would fix it. Crowley had been so attached because he never wanted to feel that way again, that hopelessness of not knowing what was happening, or what he could do to fix it. But he would never have to go through that alone because Gabriel would be there. 

And there Gabriel was, standing before his vanity, shirt open, staring off into space as his fingers fidgeted with his cuff links. Crowley smirked and walked up, taking his sleeve and finishing the job. “Honestly, can’t even get yourself dressed.” He tsked.

“Sorry,” Gabriel said. “Just got lost in thought.”

“Yeah.” Crowley turned Gabriel around and started buttoning up his shirt for him, a little sad to have to cover up that chest. “Been doing a lot of that myself.”

“I'm surprised you willingly let Aziraphale out of your hold,” Gabriel mused. He reached over and tried to smooth Crowley’s hair down. A feat easier said than done.

“Oh it wasn’t willing, trust me.” Crowley finished the shirt and snagged the tie off the back of the chair before Gabriel could grab it. There was something warm and soft about dressing someone else. And without being so close to Aziraphale, he kind of needed that. 

“I keep thinking about what would have happened if we didn’t find him,” Gabriel said, staring at Crowley’s face as he worked the tie.

“I try not to,” Crowley admitted. But the truth was he thought about it a lot. It plagued him, the idea of Aziraphale alone, in that closet, tied up and hidden away.

His hands started to shake at the idea and Gabriel grabbed them in his own, warmth spreading over Crowley’s skin. Crowley looked into Gabriel’s eyes and he knew, somehow, that things would be okay. Maybe in the same way that Aziraphale knew it would be okay. There was a comforting feeling from knowing that all of them together would never have to face anything alone. That something bad had happened, but it was rectified nearly immediately, because they worked together. 

Crowley cleared his throat and then shook his head, pushing Gabriel’s hands off so he could finish his tie. “There,” he said, patting his chest. “Finally presentable for the court of law.”

Gabriel smile. "Thanks. You could use some work." He picked at Crowley's shirt and Crowley just laughed. 

"Hey. Think you could distract everyone so i could get one last punch in?"

Gabriel shook his head. "As your lawyer I didn't hear that." He smiled. "As your boyfriend we'll see what can be arranged."

“Are you two quite ready yet?” Aziraphale asked, sticking his head through the door. “You know they can’t start without you.”

“Ready,” Gabriel said. He grabbed his jacket and slipped it on, joining Aziraphale in the doorway.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale asked, holding his hand out to him.

Crowley looked at that hand and smiled. He had a lot to worry about still. But none of those worries seemed to mean much when he was facing them with Aziraphale and Gabriel. Everything seemed to just be easier, more manageable. 

Crowley took Aziraphale’s hand and placed his other on Gabriel’s shoulder. “Ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And...scene.
> 
> So.  
Not promising that I _will_, but if I was to do a sequel in which I gave them a kid cause I'm like that, I'd love to know what you guys would like from that! I have two ideas I'm working with so, what would you guys enjoy the best out of the following.
> 
> 1) Should the kid be Crowley's from a past fling or someone's relative (like a cousin or something)?  
2) Would you rather a cuter happier fic in which the child is younger (2-5) and their parents are just gone and it's them just being like lol what is parenting? or would you want something a lil more dramatic in which the kid is older (7-13) and has run away from home?


	29. Update

Just letting you all know

There's more :D

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27083167


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